From Here to There
by Akasuna no Rin
Summary: Alfred is fine with everything staying the way it is, but then his mom just had to invite this British boy to live with them. Alfred just doesn't get it. Why does he have to live with them?/ WWII AU, eventual USUK.
1. Enter Change

A/N: And here begins my first actual attempt at a multi-chaptered story. I actually have a plot for this one, and I plan on finishing it soon, too. So, um, enjoy.  
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, or USUK would be even more canon that it is already.

* * *

"You need help again?" Matthew asked his twin brother, who was looking at him sheepishly.

"You know the way I am with math. Just help me, then I can help you with your history homework," Alfred said, and Matthew sighed.

"I already did that. Just because you do everything last minute doesn't mean I do," Matthew said, walking into the kitchen, "I don't think Mom's getting home in time to fix dinner tonight, so I'll do it."

"After you help me with my math!" Alfred called into the other room, then gave up, knowing his brother just wanted him to do it for himself. He stared at the page for a long time.

"It's done!" Matthew called from the next room, and Alfred got up, frustrated that he had not been able to do a single thing. Just as he pulled his chair out he heard the door open.

"Matt, Al? You in there?" she asked as she walked into the kitchen, "Oh, you fixed food. Thank goodness, I didn't think I'd have time to get that done." She flopped into the chair next to Alfred, obviously tired. The three chewed their food in silence for a while, until their mom cleared her throat.

"I got a letter from Dad today," Lucy, their mom, began, and the two twin brothers were suddenly sitting up straight and listening, "I hadn't opened it yet, because I wanted to read it when we were all together."

"Open it now!" Alfred begged, adding as an afterthought, "Please?"

"Fine, fine, I will," Lucy said, pulling an envelope out of her jacket pocket. She started to open it, and could almost feel Alfred's excitement at hearing from his dad. She pulled out the letter and began to read it out loud.

"Dear Family,

I can't believe I've been away for almost four months now. It's just been so long. Of course, all we've been doing is drills, and nobody is going anywhere for a while. Not during peacetime. Though many people are insisting that we're going to join the war soon. I'm still not sure. Some people are getting transferred, but I think it's mostly just to look like we're doing something, and only to places within the country.

Don't worry Matthew, I made friends here, so I'm not lonely, and Alfred, I'm working out a lot now. There's not much more they make us do. Though we do have classes every once in a while. I just wish they would stop yelling at me. Been here four months and I'm still getting yelled at like I got here yesterday..." Lucy read the letter, as it talked about the people he'd met and the trouble he'd gotten into. When she finished, Alfred looked at her.

"When was it sent?" he asked. She looked at the top of the letter.

" December 3rd," their mom answered.

"It only took twenty days to get here, the mails getting around fast," Matthew commented, then took another bite. Their mom put the letter away, then stared at the twins, making it seem as though she had something else she wanted to say.

"Is there something else you want to say?" Matthew, ever the watchful one, asked.

"Actually, I do. There's going to be a couple changes around here," their mom said, and Alfred's mind blanked.

_'Changes?'_ he thought. _'But I've been trying so hard to keep things as close to normal as possible since Dad left...and it's almost Christmas...'_

"Have you boys heard about the refugee program that was started?" their mom started off.

"Yes," they answered simultaneously.

"Well, some of the people at my work are involved in that, and I thought that we could pitch in," she continued. Alfred's mind started spazzing, not liking where this was going. "So I volunteered us to take in a British child,"

"You what?" Alfred said, the food almost falling out of his mouth. Almost. Their mom frowned.

"You don't want to help out the-" she started.

"It's not that! It's just, we've had so much trouble ever since Dad got drafted, and he's not even allowed to come back and visit for Christmas, and I didn't want anything to change _now_, now that we finally seemed to have things figured out," Alfred said, staring at his plate. His mom's face softened.

"It's going to be fine, this boy is just going to be here until the threat to Britain is over. It shouldn't take a long time, and you know it'll be nice to be doing something to help someone out there," she told her more immature child, who every once in a while seemed to be much more mature than he seemed.

"We can take him in, but it doesn't mean I have to like him," Alfred said.

"You should try to get over that attitude before tomorrow, because that's when he's going to get here," his mother dropped yet another bomb on the family. Alfred looked at her and frowned.

"I'm not hungry anymore," he said, quickly leaving the room and going to his bedroom.

"Please tell me you are fine with this, Matthew," Lucy asked, and Matthew smiled at her.

"It's fine with me, and it'll be fine with Al too, eventually," Matthew answered.

"I sure hope so."

…

Alfred dreaded the moment when the door would open, for once in his life, because this time he knew it was the end of normalcy as it had been recently, and this little British boy was going to throw a wrench into their problems.

"Al, the door just opened, we need to go greet this boy, make him feel welcome," Matthew told his brother, dragging him out of his reverie, "Even if you don't want him here, he probably doesn't either. So don't make him feel any worse than he would anyway, so far from home."

"I'm coming, you don't have to give me a speech," Alfred said, playfully nudging his brother.

"I'm home!" they both heard their mother call out, and they walked to the front of the house. She stepped in, holding a bag that was not her's, and then behind her stood another person, about as tall as her. They walked in together, and that's when Alfred realized that this "child" was no child. He looked to be sixteen year old, just like him and Matthew. He was slightly shorter than Alfred, with large eyebrows and a light blush on his cheeks. But what popped out the most was the eyes, the striking green eyes, that he only barely saw because they were aimed downward.

"Alfred, Matthew, this is Arthur," their mom said, and Alfred frowned.

"I thought you said you were bringing home a kid. This isn't a kid, this is a teenager, that's different," Alfred told his mom, and she glared at him.

"Err, um, hi Arthur, I'm Matthew, and that's Alfred. But it's fine if you can't tell us apart at first, nobody ever can," Matthew tried to break the tension.

"H-hello," Arthur stuttered out, looking up to at the twins, "I'm Arthur Kirkland, and it's so nice of you to take me in."

Alfred continued to stare at Arthur. "Al, could you take these bags up to your room?" his mom asked Alfred.

"Why my room?" Alfred whined.

"Because your's is bigger than Matt's. Now stop whining and be nice to your guest," she told him fiercely.

Alfred gulped and grabbed his bags, muttering a quiet "Follow me," before walking up the stairs to his room, quiet footsteps walking up the stairs behind him. He opened his door, sitting the bags down next to his bunk bed that he'd grown out of years ago. "Well, this is my room. And now I guess yours, for the time being," Alfred said, "I usually sleep on the top, so unless you have some major problem with being on the bottom, you're sleeping there."

"Bottom is fine by me," Arthur answered quietly, and Alfred opened the door full again.

"I'm gonna go see is Matt needs any help with the food," Alfred said, leaving the British boy in the room alone. Arthur set about situating his things, when he heard a door open behind him.

"Don't mind Alfred," Matthew told Arthur, "He hasn't been the same since Dad got drafted. He'll get used to you."

"Oh, so he doesn't hate me," Arthur said with what sounded like a sigh of relief.

"Hate you? How could he, he only just met you," Matthew said, walking over towards the British boy, "Just give him some time, he'll warm up to you. Now, if you don't mind, I need to go make sure he hasn't started burning anything yet. He's not the best cook." Matthew left the room, and Arthur was alone again.

…

"What is this?" Arthur asked once he came downstairs to eat. Matthew looked up from scooping the meat onto a plate.

"It's meatloaf and potatoes. Sorry I didn't fix more, but I'm making do with what we have at the moment," he answered, and their mom entered the conversation.

"I'm going to stop at the Alison's after work tomorrow," she told the three boys, "She has the food I asked her to get yesterday after we were finished working, so I'm going to go pick it up. I hope you can manage being alone a little while on Christmas."

"We should be able to for a while, you just need to be home on that day," Alfred answered through the meatloaf.

"Close your mouth when you chew. Sometimes you make me feel like I'm the mother of a seven year old again," their mom chided him, and Arthur smiled slightly, watching the family. "Do you like the meatloaf, Arthur?"

"Um, yes. It's good, thank you," Arthur said, looking down again. Matthew saw his mom shake his head.

"Well, I'm done," Alfred said, pushing away from the table and running out of the room, up to his bedroom, yelling behind him "I'm gonna go work on my math homework!"

"Arthur, do you want to go upstairs with him?" Matthew asked, and Arthur almost squeaked.

"But, doesn't he want to be alone? Isn't that why he just left the table before everyone else?" Arthur asked.

"Maybe he does, but I think he just wants to get his math homework done so I can stop holding it over his head that I always finish it before him. That, and he's frustrated because he doesn't know how to do it, and I refuse to tell him how to, so maybe you could," Matthew explained, and Arthur nodded, picking up his plate to go clean it. "Don't worry about that, I'll get it."

…

Arthur opened Alfred's door slightly, peaking in. Alfred was leaning back in his chair and tossing a ball up and down in the air.

"You can come in, if that's what you want me to say," Alfred said, not stopping what he was doing.

"Is that what maths is like here?" Arthur asked, trying to make a joke to lighten the atmosphere.

Alfred turned around and looked at Arthur, then deeming that he was not being serious, laughed. "It is when I can't figure out how to do the next problem." Arthur crossed the room to look over Alfred's shoulder, looking at the math work on the table.

"We did this last year, so I know how to do it. Do you want me to explain it to you?" Arthur asked the other boy.

"You can try, but like Mattie has learned, it's hard to get something through to my brain," Alfred said, looking over at the British boy, "I think that's why he never helps me anymore."

"I can try though," Arthur said, sitting on the bed and looking over at him. "It's like this..."

…

"I told you they could get along," Matthew told his mother, after walking upstairs and listening to the conversation.

"I never said I didn't believe you," she responded.

"Hey Matthew, you need to learn how to whisper better!" Alfred yelled from his room. Matthew blushed. His mom patted him on the back. In his room, Alfred shook his head. "Sorry 'bout that, but sometimes I just need to make Matthew realize that I'm not dumber than a box of rocks."

"It's fine," Arthur said, standing back up from his crouching position next to Alfred's desk. "Do you get it now?"

"I think so. Thanks for helping me," Alfred said. Arthur smiled and nodded. "But don't think this means that I'm fine with you being here. I'm still mad that my mom invited you here without consulting Matthew and I first. I'm just not as mad at you now," he continued, and Arthur stared at him for being so direct. "Now I'm going to bed, cause all this math has made me sleepy. Stupid teachers, assigning homework over the break," Alfred got out of his chair and crawled up to his bed, flopping onto it. "'Night."

"Good night, Alfred," Arthur said, flipping off the lights and closing the door slightly.

* * *

A/N: I had to do some research for this one, considering the fact that it is historical. That was another first for me.

OK, first off, I took some creative liberty with the fact that most of the children who came to America from England came in 1939, but for my story, Arthur came in 1940. The majority of the fanfic will be before war even starts for the U.S. The only other thing I think might throw people off is Arthur's personality. I think it makes sense in the situation for him to be quiet and shy, and for Alfred to be capable of some gentleness. I think that as they get used to each other Arthur will get his personality back.

Um, now that that's done...R&R, por favor?


	2. Christmas

A/N: Yay, my second chapter is going up. Thank you for everyone who reviewed the last chapter! Just so you know, this chapter was very weird for me to write. To make it fit into the timeline and make it historically accurate, this was the next thing that was going to happen. So yea.

* * *

"Matt! Matt! Wake up," Alfred shook his twin. Matthew's eyelids fluttered open, and he grunted, something that he would never do had he been awake enough to realize what was going on.

"Wha-" Matthew murmured. Alfred shook him harder.

"It's Christmas, wake up!" Alfred said, shaking him until he fell out of his bed. "-Oops."

"Ugh," Matt groaned, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "This got old a couple years ago, just so you know. Most people stop doing this when they turn twelve."

"Well, not me," Alfred said, then stuck his tongue out at Matthew.

"Have you woken up Arthur?" Matthew asked.

"No, I wanted to get you up first," Alfred said, frowning, "Check your stocking."

"Only after you get Arthur up. We'll all check our stockings at the same time," Matthew said.

"He has a stocking?"

"Yea, Mom and I put it up last night after he went to bed," Matthew said with a smile, "Now go wake him up, I'll get some breakfast ready. We'll eat dinner after Mom gets home from Alison's house."

"Why do I have to wake him up?" Alfred whined, and Matthew flicked his brother in the head.

"I want you to get along with him. Now go wake him up, and if you could, please be nicer to him than you were to me," Matthew said, walking out of his room and going downstairs to fix breakfast. Alfred grumbled under his breath and went back to his room.

"Hey, Arthur," Alfred whispered, walking over to his bottom bunk. Arthur was curled up on his side, tugging his blanket over himself, obviously cold. Looking over at Arthur's suitcase he noticed that Arthur had very little things with him, and that this blanket was very threadbare and seemed to be his only blanket. _'Why did we not give him another blanket?'_ he thought, looking up to his bed where he has more than enough blankets for himself. He walked to his closet and pulled out one of his old blankets. It was one of his favorites, he just never used it anymore. Holding it in his arms he approached Arthur a second time. "Hey Arthur, wake up," Alfred said, shaking him slightly. Arthur jolted awake.

"Did they see our lights?" Arthur mumbled, looking around before he realized where he was.

"What do you mean?" Alfred asked him.

"Oh, it's nothing. Just something from Britain," Arthur murmured, and Alfred removed his hand from his shoulder.

"Well, Matthew is currently fixing us a light breakfast so that we're not starving by the time Mom gets home, and then I think we're going to check our stockings," Alfred said, still holding the blanket. Arthur stood up.

"Stocking?" he asked.

"Uh, yes, Matthew and my mom put one up for you last night, apparently," Alfred said, "Wait, you do have stockings in England, right?"

"We have stockings," Arthur said, starting to walk out the door with a shiver, and Alfred noticed that his clothes weren't in any better shape than his blanket.

"Arthur, wait," Alfred said, then he draped the blanket on Arthur's shoulders, walking over to his closet. He pulled out a long sleeved shirt and pants. "Here, you look kind of cold. They might be kind of large on you, I hope that's fine by you."

"I-I thought that you didn't like me," Arthur said, staring at Alfred. Alfred sighed.

"It's not that I don't like you, it's more like I don't like the situation. I'm sorry if it seems like I don't like you," Alfred said, then finding himself blushing, continued, "Now go put those clothes on." Alfred went downstairs while Arthur changed into his clothes.

"Hey, Mattie, is it really that bad in England?" Alfred asked his brother, walking into the room and leaning on his brother's shoulder, watching him fix eggs.

"Why do you ask?" Matthew asked, scrambling some of the eggs further.

"Arthur's clothes and blanket are really threadbare, and he barely has any stuff with him," Alfred said, in an offhanded way.

"Well, I would suppose some are worse off than others, but yes, it's pretty bad there. You have to remember that they are in a war, and they just got out of the Great Depression too," Matthew answered, and Alfred was going to continue before he heard steps coming down the stairs. He heard them enter the kitchen. Alfred stopped leaning on Matthew to look at Arthur, who suddenly looked really small in Alfred's huge clothes.

_'Am I really that big?' _Alfred wondered to himself. Matthew turned to look at Arthur, then let out a small noise when he noticed Arthur wearing Alfred's clothes.

"I hope you like your eggs scrambled," Matthew said, turning back to the pan.

"So, how long d'ya think Mom'll be gone?" Alfred asked his brother as he sat down in a kitchen chair. Matthew shrugged.

"Probably not long. I'm gonna start cooking Christmas dinner in a few hours, so it'll be ready when she's home. What I really wonder is if she plans on inviting Alison's family over this time. Her parents are frail, so it's getting harder and harder for them to go places," Matthew said as he put the eggs on the plate.

"I dunno, you know Mom. She'll try to help everyone. She'll probably invite her, then ask us to go to her house to help Alison's parents over here. It'd be easier if we just went to their house, but I know that won't happen," Alfred responded, getting out silverware for everyone. Matthew noticed Arthur's look, and decided to explain who Alison is.

"Alison is our Mom's best friend, who just so happens to work at the same place as her. Our mom helps Alison's parents a lot, when Alison can't, because she has a hard time by herself," Matthew explained, while Alfred chomped on his eggs hurriedly. Arthur ate slowly, savoring every bite. Alfred was finished long before either of the others, and sat there waiting for them to finish eating. Alfred noticed that Arthur was still clutching the blanket around his shoulders. Matthew had seemed to notice the blanket too, and looked at him knowingly. Alfred shook his head, denying that he'd helped the boy, but Matthew knew him too well, and just smiled, while Arthur had caught onto their silent conversation, looking back and forth between them.

"Hurry up and finish eating, both of you. I wanna look in my stocking," Alfred said, leaning the chair back and staring at the ceiling. A couple minutes later they were able to relocate to the living room, where the stockings were hanging about a fireplace that was only used around Christmas. Alfred pulled his down, as did Matthew. Arthur looked up, and Alfred noticed that the shortest of the three wouldn't be able to reach his. Alfred reached up and pulled it down as well, giving it to Arthur. He smiled shyly in thanks. Alfred sat down on one of the couches, taking the full space, while Arthur and Matthew took spots in chairs that occupied the room. Alfred riled through his stocking, setting aside the paper note that his mom had put in there, deciding to read it after he had looked at the other stuff he'd gotten, while Arthur and Matthew read the notes before looking through the bag. Alfred found the regular stuff, small pieces of candy, all things he liked. When he looked over to Matthew, he noticed that Matthew had gotten his favorite types of candy as well. Alfred looked back at his stuff to read his note.

I know you probably decided to skip this and are reading this after you finished looking through your stocking. If my guess is right, make sure to tell me when I get home. I hope you like the candy and that you have a good Christmas.

-Love, Mom

It also included a smiley face on it, and Alfred smiled, trying to remember to tell his mom that she'd guessed right. Alfred decided to see what Arthur had thought about his stocking and looked at the other person. He was surprised to see him to be what looked like crying, looking at the note in the stocking. The rest of the stocking was untouched.

"Arthur?" Alfred asked, and Arthur looked up quickly, realizing he'd been caught. "Are you feeling bad?"

"I-I'm fine," Arthur said, wiping his tears away in what he pretended to be a cough. "I'll be r-right back" Arthur quickly left the room, probably to go to their shared room.

"Did I do something that time?" Alfred asked, looking at Matthew, who shrugged. Alfred got up and looked at the note that had been included in Arthur's stocking.

This probably isn't the way you wanted to spend Christmas on your 16th year, but I'll try to make it as good as I can. Your stocking isn't as full as I would have wanted, but I learned about your coming a little late. I had to take some candy from Alfred and Matthew, not that they need anymore than they got. But don't tell them I said that. I hope we can make your stay here as nice as possible.

-Sincerely, Lucy

Arthur's also included a smiley face, but Alfred couldn't tell if there was anything that would have made the British boy cry.

"You should go try to cheer him up," Matthew said, and Alfred turned to stare at him.

"Why is it always me?" Alfred asked, not a whine this time, but close, "You two would get along a whole lot better than me and him. You're both nice and quiet, while I'm the opposite of that."

"That's why," Matthew told him, "It's the fact that you are loud and energetic that I think you'd make good friends. You could help him get used to America. And maybe he can teach you how to be less loud, as impossible as that seems."

"You're a devious little boy, aren't you," Alfred said, smiling, "I'll try to cheer him up. If I continue like this, maybe I will get a friend other than you."

"And we all know how good that would be," Matthew said, leaning back as Alfred walked up the stairs to follow Arthur. Cracking the door open and peaking in, he found himself on the opposite side of the situation from yesterday. Pushing the door open and walking in, he found Arthur curled up on his bed.

"Arthur?" Alfred asked the British boy, and Arthur stiffened, "Did I do something wrong?"

"No," Arthur murmured, but he was obviously still crying when he said it. Alfred sat on the edge of the bed, and tried to roll Arthur over to face him. Once he had accomplished this, he could see that Arthur's face was streaked with tears.

"Why are you crying then?" Alfred asked, trying his best to seem sympathetic. He actually didn't have to try as hard as he thought he would. Maybe this boy was growing on him already.

"You, and Matthew, and your mom, you're all being so nice to me, and I..." Arthur said, looking up at Arthur. Alfred noticed that he was shivering again, so he got up to pick up the blanket that had fallen on the floor as Arthur had run into the room, and wrapped it around him. Arthur was sitting up now, and Alfred stared at him.

"Like we said earlier, our mom helps anyone she can. If she could, she'd probably try to house the entire United Kingdom in our house. It's not like it's that hard to make room for one more person in the house. Especially since...since Dad's not here at the moment," Alfred mention, almost stopping at the mention of his dad. "If you don't mind my asking, what's your family life like?"

"Why would you ask that?" Arthur asked, gripping the blanket around himself. He had stopped crying, but his cheeks were tear stained still. Alfred resisted the urge to wipe the tears off his face.

"I was just wondering," Alfred responded.

"Well, my dad left to join the military last year, so I lived with just my mum before I came here. We- we weren't very well off. My mum couldn't get a job, and our source of money was never the same week to week. We made do with what we had, my mum and I, but even before my dad joined the army, we weren't well off. The only difference then was that my dad would have a job for a while before having to get a new job," Arthur told him, looking at his feet.

"What did your dad do?" Alfred asked, interested.

"Odd jobs, anything people would pay for. After he left, my mum started trying to do odd jobs, but when everyone was as bad off as we were, nobody was going to hire my mom to do anything they could already do themselves for less. Eventually she did get a job though, as a maid to a family who was reasonably well off, though her getting hired was mostly a charity act. The only reason I was able to come to America was because they payed for me to come, in exchange for a certain amount of work from my mom. She gladly snatched it, seeing as how I'd be safe and provided for if I went," Arther told him, looking up partway through the story.

"I'm sorry," Alfred said the only thing he could think of.

"Don't be. Your family is taking care of me. That's more than I should ask for," Arthur said.

"No, I mean, I'm sorry for being so mean to you when you got here. I guess I really should've thought of your feelings before I whined," Alfred told him. He lifted up Arthur's stocking. "You might want to look through this. Mom stole candy from Matt and I for ya, so you might as well look inside," Alfred said, giving the stocking to him.

"You read the note?" Arthur asked.

"Yea, I thought maybe it was the reason you were crying," Alfred said.

"It wasn't the reason, it just made me realize the reason," Arthur said, before looking into his stocking. "You can have the candy back if you want."

"Naw, I have enough already. Plus, I think I'm getting fat," Alfred said, poking his belly. Arthur smiled.

"I don't think you are, but thanks anyway," Arthur told him, and Alfred smiled at him.

"My brother would have agreed with me. Thanks for disagreeing," Alfred told him, "And by the way, if you get cold at night, tell me. I have more blankets, if you need them." Arthur looked at him, an odd look on his face.

"Alfred, would you come down here and help me cook this? You too Arthur, you're a part of the family now, at least for the time being," Matthew said, poking his head into the room.

"We're coming," Alfred said, standing up, and Arthur was right behind him.

…

"I'm back!" Lucy said as she entered the house.

"We're in the kitchen!" Alfred shouted back, and their mom entered a kitchen that was full of good smells and the three boys moving back and forth all over the room, fixing dinner.

"You got here just in time, we just finished fixing dinner," Matthew told her, and she smiled.

"It smells good," she commented, sitting down at the table that was already filled with foods as the three boys brought the turkey over.

"It probably smells better than it tastes," Alfred said, sitting in his seat at the same time as the other two did.

"Yea, I'm sorry about that. I've never cooked anything before, so I messed some of it up," Arthur said sheepishly, but very obviously much happier than before, as well as less shy.

"And you know how the only thing Al can fix is Kraft Mac'n'Cheese," Matthew said, and Alfred glared at him.

"I can too fix other things!" Alfred defended himself.

"So what you're saying is that Matthew was the only one here who knew what he was doing?" Lucy asked, "I'm not sure if I want to eat it then."

"Hey!" Matthew said, and his mom laughed.

"I'm just kidding!" she said, "Now let's eat, and then you can tell me about what happened while I was gone today."

* * *

A/N: I'm sorry Arthur isn't himself yet, he won't be for another chapter. But he will be eventually! Edit: And thank you to the anonymous reviewer (TeaAndRoses) who told/reminded me that Arthur would have referred to his mom as his mum. I'm sorry I don't speak British -shot-

Historical notes: As for Arthur's problems, in Britain at the time, unemployment rates were really high. Technically, in America, this is about after the Great Depression, but everyone in this story was growing up in the Great Depression, so they will be more frugal. While there is still going to be shortages, with the men beginning to get drafted, there was suddenly a shortage of people who could work.

When Arthur says "Did they see our lights?" after Alfred wakes him up, he's referring to the Blackout that England was in at the time he left and after that. Everyone had to turn of their lights, and if they had light on inside they weren't allowed to let it show through the windows or doors. People caught this way could be fined or go to court.

Well, uh, yea. That's it for this chapter. R&R, por favor!


	3. Back to School

A/N: I think this has been my favorite chapter so far. So now I present the third chapter!

* * *

Alfred and Matthew weren't happy. Though really, it was more so Alfred than Matthew. Arthur quickly noticed their unhappiness. Was there a certain reason for it? Arthur decided to ask about it at supper that night.

"Hey, Alfred, why are you and Matthew acting so unhappy today?" Arthur asked at supper.

"Cause tomorrow we start school again," Alfred said, sighing animatedly.

"And I've arranged for you to go to their school as well, Arthur. Since we don't know how long you'll be here, I thought it couldn't hurt. I've gotten the school supplies that you'll need too," Lucy said, looking at Arthur, "I've also managed to get you put in all of Alfred's classes so that you don't get lost or so that he can help you."

"Help him? He'll probably end up being the one helping me," Alfred joked, and Matthew nodded in agreement, "He's already helped me with a lot of my homework."

"Then maybe he'll be a good influence on you," his mom said, taking a bite, "I've spoken to the principle about your condition, and told him that you are still a British citizen, and he said he's going to take certain measures to make you feel more comfortable."

"I'm sure it'll be a good experience," Arthur said, and Alfred stuck his tongue out in mock disgust at the idea of going to school being a good experience.

…

"Have fun!" Lucy called to the three as they walked out the door.

"Mom, we're not six, we don't have fun at school anymore," Alfred said, and Matthew shrugged.

"Sometimes I do," Matthew said, and Alfred nudged him.

"Yea, but you're a nerd," Alfred said, and Arthur decided to speak up.

"I like going to school," he said, and Alfred turned to stare at him, wondering over trying to respond without hurting his feelings.

"Maybe school in England is different than it is here," Alfred said, and Matthew flicked him in the back of the head.

"Nice save," Matthew told him, walking ahead of the two.

"Oh, come on Mattie, you know what I meant," Alfred called ahead, and Arthur smiled.

"You guys argue a lot," Arthur commented.

"We're like total opposites, so it's gonna happen. Not only that, but we're twin brothers, we have to spend most of our life together," Alfred responded, staring at Matthew's back as he walked in front of them. "Hey, wait. You've never had problems telling us apart, have you?"

"Well, no," Arthur said, trying to hide his embarrassment, "But like you said, your personalities are so different that you're easy to tell apart."

"So you're saying that if I acted like Matt, you'd be unable to tell us apart?" Alfred teased, and Arthur shook his head.

"Of course not, there are other differences too. His hair is a different color, slightly, and it's wavier than your's. And you have this weird little hair on the top of your head that never seems to sit down," Arthur told the more energetic brother.

"Wow, you found all those differences in the week you've been with us? You're really perceptive. Usually it takes people six months, at least, to figure those differences out," Alfred said, and then noticed that they were approaching the school. "Look, there's the school. You can just follow me to all your classes."

The two boys walked into the school, and Arthur just followed as Alfred went through the hallways with a destination in mind. Once Alfred got to his homeroom, he motioned Arthur in, taking him up to the teacher.

"Mrs. Smith, this is Arthur Kirkland, the new student," Alfred said, pulling Arthur around where to where the teacher could see him.

"Ah, yes. This is the British boy who is staying with you, correct?" she asked him.

"Yes, he is," Alfred said, and Arthur smiled at the teacher.

"How do you do?" Arthur asked, and the teacher laughed.

"How very British. Fine, fine, Alfred, he can stay in the seat next to you," Mrs. Smith told them, and Alfred took Arthur back to where his seat was, feeling the stares as they walked by. As soon as he sat down, he heard whispers around him, all having to do with Arthur. It was something odd when a small town school like this got a new student, let alone one that's from a foreign country. Alfred turned and looked at Arthur, who looked uncomfortable, obviously hearing the whispers. That was about the time for the Pledge of Allegiance to start, and all of the kids got up, leaving Arthur confused. Alfred noticed the Union Jack hanging over on the other side of the room from the American flag, and pointed it out to Arthur.

"Just look at it and don't say anything, my mom mentioned this to me before we left," Alfred whispered to Arthur, and he nodded, looking in the opposite direction as everyone else in the classroom. That's when they started to say the pledge, and Arthur listened to the words the other students said by heart.

_"I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to __the republic for which it stands: one nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all." _

After the pledge was over, all of the students were staring at Arthur, the one who hadn't said the pledge and had instead faced the British flag. Alfred turned and started to engage Arthur in a conversation, mostly to distract him from the whispers that had started up ten fold after the pledge.

"So, after this we have Science," Alfred told Arthur, and Arthur tried to pay attention to him instead of the people around him.

"What are we going over in that class?" Arthur asked, and the two boys managed to ignore the whispers for a couple minutes until the bell rang for the next class.

For the rest of the morning Arthur had to put up with the stares and whispers, while Alfred tried to distract him by asking him questions about the content, most of which Arthur had already gone over. It worked, but only to an extent. Once in the hallway Alfred noticed Arthur flinch slightly, and looking behind him found a bunch of kids snickering after having used a make shift slingshot to hit Arthur with an eraser in the back of the head. Alfred gave the kids a one finger salute that Arthur didn't notice, but they did. The ringleader, whose name was Jack, returned it, and Alfred started talking to Arthur and moving them through the hallway faster.

For the most part they managed to avoid any major confrontation, that is, before lunch. Lunch was a different story though. Alfred, Arthur and Matthew were sitting together at a table, eating that day's lunch of spaghetti, when trouble came.

"Hey, Limey! How's the king doing?" came a call from behind them, and the three at the table turned to see the ringleader from earlier. Arthur paled slightly, and Alfred grimaced.

"Well, he's ruling a country," Arthur answered, unsure of what to say.

"How nice," Jack said with his words dripping in sarcasm, "Too bad you can't be in England right now. You had to run away from the war, didn't you?" Alfred just about blew his top when he said that. "What, could 'Mummy' not take care of you?"

"Oh, shut up, ya asshole. I don't know how you'd know what having a family is like, since the last time I checked, your parents were divorced," Alfred said as he stood up, staring the other down. Matthew grimaced, knowing the way Alfred got when he was mad. He'd already gone for a low blow. Arthur looked from Alfred, defending him, to Matthew, who was holding his head while looking at Alfred.

"At least my Dad's still around. Your's had to leave for the war. Oh wait, we're not in a war. So he's just siting around, of no help to anybody," Jack returned, glaring at the other boy, who had moved so that he was standing front of Arthur, so he could maybe forget he was there and not pick on him.

"My dad was drafted! He had no choice," Alfred yelled at him, and Jack smiled, knowing he'd hit a sore spot. "Whatever you say, then." Jack turned around to leave, wanting to quit while he was ahead, but Alfred didn't want him to get away with that. He reached down to his tray and picked up some spaghetti, ignoring the sauce dripping down his fingers, and threw it at the back of Jack's head. He hit dead on, and the spaghetti got tangled in his hair, and dripped down his back and the inside of his shirt. He turned around quickly, staring at Alfred, who still had the sauce on his hand.

"You-!" he yelled at Alfred, and the entire cafeteria was staring at the two of them. Jack turned around and grabbed the food off of the closest person's tray. It just so happened to be mashed potatoes, and after being in Jack's hands for about two second, quickly found it's next home on Alfred's face, covering some of his glasses.

Alfred reached down to pick up what spaghetti he had not thrown at him and flung it at him, while in the distance he heard someone yell "Food fight!" The cafeteria quickly erupted into two groups: those who were going to throw food and those who were going to cower under the tables. Matthew quickly grabbed Arthur and pulled him under the table just before some meatloaf flew through the spot their heads had just been occupying. Alfred tried to get out of the cafeteria, but was quickly blocked by a bunch of Jack's friends, all holding various foods in their hands. He started to throw something he pulled off of somebody's tray, only to have his arm grabbed from behind and stopped from throwing anything.

"Who-" Alfred turned around, only to find the principle holding his arm back.

"Me," he said with a grin, "And I think I just caught the rat who started this little fight."

"But-"

"No buts, now come to my office."

…

"I can't let you go about that and blatantly waste all of that food. You should know better than that, especially now, when resources are precious," the principle lectured Alfred, who was looking at the ground and putting up his best "I'm sorry" act. But in reality he didn't regret it at all. "I called your mom, but she was unable to come to school. But she promised to talk to you about it when you get home."

"What is my punishment?" Alfred asked, and the principle sighed.

"Always in a rush to learn that, aren't they. I have decided that you are to have to spend the rest of the day cleaning the cafeteria, as well as having detention for the next two weeks. I wanted to give you more, but since this is the first time this year I have seen you in my office, I will go easy on you. Now go to the cafeteria, the janitor will have the stuff you can use to clean it with," he explained to Alfred, who groaned, but left the room before the principle could reprimand him for it.

Alfred spent the rest of the day scraping the food from the walls and mopping the floor up. When he was finally allowed to leave, it was hour and a half after school had ended, and he had to walk home by himself. When he finally reached his house he was glad to be home. He wanted to just go and clean himself up, he still felt nasty from scraping the food off the walls, but his mom stopped him at the door.

"A food fight? Are you kidding me?" she questioned him before he could even sit his stuff down."Why would you do that?"

"That kid was annoying me," Alfred said without meeting her eyes, looking at the door frame next to him. "He deserved something in his face, and it was either spaghetti or a fist."

"As glad as I am about you taking the high road and only throwing spaghetti at him, you still shouldn't have done that," she told him, and in the corner of his eye he could see Matthew and Arthur watching them.

"I've got detention for the next two weeks, and I had to spend half of today scraping food from the walls. Can't you leave my punishment at that?" Alfred said, really wanting to go clean up.

"You can go clean up, but we're not done with this conversation," his mom avoided the question, and Alfred took what he could get. He quickly ran upstairs, not looking at Matthew or Arthur as he ran upstairs and put his stuff up and started to clean up.

"Is he mad at me?" Arthur asked Matthew, who smiled and shook his head.

"No, he's embarrassed that he got caught trying to defend you," Matthew told him, and his mom stopped herself as she walked by.

"What is this about defending Arthur?" she asked them.

"The entire reason the food fight started was because Alfred told off some kid for making fun of Arthur. When the kid started making fun of Dad, Alfred got really mad and threw food at him," Matthew told Lucy.

"So, he's getting along with you now," she commented to Arthur, "Maybe I shouldn't punish him as badly as I was going to. What I think is odd is that he didn't even mention it to me that he was defending you, Arthur."

"Like I said, he doesn't like being embarrassed. That, and he doesn't want any trouble to come to Arthur," Matthew said, and Lucy stared at him. "I may not act like him, but I usually get why he does what he does. I think it has something to do with us being twins."

"That's completely unlike him. Usually he tends to be loud and proud, yelling about whatever he does," his mom said.

"I've noticed that he does act weird around Arthur," Matthew said, looking at Arthur, "I think it's something about being his first friend since, well, ever."

"Alfred's never had friends?" Arthur asked, puzzled as to why someone so energetic and happy as Alfred would have never had friends.

"Yea, he tends to annoy most people who would otherwise befriend him, so they avoid him. I was really his only friend, but now he has you," Matthew told him.

"Oh," Arthur mumbled, "Um, I think I'm going to go do my homework."

"Fine, I think I'll go start dinner," Matthew said, to protests from his mom.

Meanwhile Alfred sulked in the bathtub, wondering why he had refused to mention that he was defending Arthur. And what that weird feeling had been when Arthur was being teased.

_'I guess I'll figure it out eventually,' _Alfred thought, sinking further into the water.

* * *

A/N: I want to thank everyone who has alerted this story, and I know beggars can't be choosers, but I really want more reviews. They make me feel all happy every time I get one.

For the pledge of allegiance thing, I read about somewhere where they did that, so I thought I'd include it too. For the pledge itself, there is only one difference from the current day one, as the 1940 version doesn't have the phrase "under God," in it, which was added in the 1950s when everyone was afraid of the communists taking over. Also, talking about the principle lecturing Alfred about the food fight, this is as the Great Depression was coming to an end, so everyone is used to shortages and using what they had.

So, that's it for this chapter. R&R, por favor.


	4. Beginning of Summer

A/N: Holy fudging crud (yum, fudging crud,) thank you for all the reviews for the last chapter! I didn't actually expect my plea to work, but it did, so thank you. So I give you the fourth chapter, where Arthur starts to act more like himself (kinda.)

* * *

"Alfred, Arthur, come on in. You need to eat," Alfred's mom called outside, and the two boys started towards the door, Alfred dropping the basketball on the ground. The two had been playing basketball with Matthew as the referee, but they had continued playing even after Matthew had stopped watching and gone inside. After Alfred had defended Arthur that first day back of school, the two had become inseparable. Alfred still had to stand up to some people for making fun of Arthur, even after everyone heard about the food fight he had started, though the number of people making fun of Arthur shrunk once they realized that Alfred would take them on for an insult, and he wasn't afraid of getting in trouble.

They couldn't have any problems with people now though, not when school is out and most of the kids on the street tend to keep away from the annoying blonde. Arthur had slowly gotten used to the oddities of the family, and they called them one of his own, seeing as how the was no sign of Arthur being able to go back yet.

"Alfred, are you and Arthur drinking water while you're outside? The weather had been really hot lately," Lucy asked her son, and Alfred shrugged. He finished up the food on his plate, impatiently waiting for Arthur to finish eating so they go back to the game.

"We drink when we are thirsty," Alfred said, looking over at Arthur to get support.

"Yes, we do," Arthur said, not really sure what Alfred was wanting him to say. This seemed to satisfy Alfred, and he grabbed Arthur's wrist, pulling him out of his seat and to the door. "Ah-ah, Alfred let go of my arm!" Arthur told him, and Alfred let go quickly, knowing how the Brit got when he was annoyed.

"See ya, we're gonna go play some more," Alfred said over his shoulder, then shut the door.

Lucy looked at Matthew. "Sometimes I wish he acted just a little bit more like you," she commented, cleaning up the table.

"But then nothing interesting would ever happen around here," Matthew commented offhandedly. Lucy laughed, looking out the window to where her son and the British boy were running around the court.

Meanwhile, Alfred and Arthur were having trouble playing the game without a referee. "That was a foul," Arthur told the other boy, who shook his head.

"Nu-uh, that was totally fair," Alfred said, "I would know. I had to teach you this game, didn't I?"

"I would much rather read a book," Arthur told the other boy, bringing up an argument the two had already had several times.

"You'll never get a girlfriend if you think like that," Alfred taunted, and Arthur's face would have turned red from embarrassment had it not already been from exertion.

"How would you know, it's not like I've seen you with a girlfriend," Arthur replied, not meeting Alfred's eyes.

"I could get one if I wanted one!" Alfred responded, and Arthur got that look of confidence in his eyes again.

"Oh, so you don't want a girlfriend? Because I don't see you having one right now," Arthur responded, and Alfred fumed.

"Well, it's not like you're any closer to getting a girlfriend!" Alfred told him, and Arthur looked like he was about to respond when he suddenly started wobbling.

"Oh-oh! What's-everything's moving-" Arthur said shakily, starting to fall over, stopping when Alfred caught him. He stood the smaller boy back up, holding onto his shoulders in case he started to fall over again.

"Are you, um, feeling bad?" Alfred asked, looking at the smaller boy. Arthur grabbed onto Alfred's shirt in what seemed to be a steadying act.

"I feel like I'm going to fall over," Arthur said quietly, gripping Alfred's shirt, "Don't let go, or I will fall." They stood like that for a moment, waiting to see if maybe Arthur would feel better after a couple minutes. "It's going away, I think I can stand up by myself." Alfred let go, and though Arthur wobbled a bit, he kept his balance.

"We should go in," Alfred said, taking Arthur's arm gently this time and taking him inside. Once they were inside Alfred had Arthur sit down on the couch.

"I need a drink, let me go-" Arthur said, but Alfred cut him off by quickly walking away and coming back with water. Arthur took it, if a little annoyed that Alfred was taking care of him. "I'm fine, you don't have to take care of me," Arthur said after taking a gulp of water. To illustrate his point, he stood up. At least, he attempted to. As soon as he managed to drag himself to his feet, he fell backwards onto the couch.

"Yea, you are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself," Alfred said sarcastically, pulling a pillow off of one of the chairs next to him and sitting it behind Arthur.

"I am!" Arthur said, trying to get up, but being unable to, stopped before he got anywhere.

"Just stop trying, you're gonna hurt yourself," Alfred said, "Is there anything you need?"

"I'm fine! Just let me sit here a moment, I'm just tired, that's it," Arthur argued, though it really seemed like he was telling himself that just as much as he was telling Alfred.

"If that's what makes you happy," Alfred said, sitting down on the couch next to him, shoulder to shoulder in case he started to get dizzy again. Arthur stared at the floor, hoping that maybe the world would stop spinning. A couple times he let his head sink to the side, but quickly stopped himself, remembering who was next to him. "If you're tired, you can put your head down, it's fine," Alfred told him, trying to identify the feeling that was assaulting him. Arthur's head drifted down to his shoulder, and Arthur's hand grabbed Alfred's shirt, trying to make the world stop spinning. That's when he realized that he was _really_ thirsty, and from his attempts earlier, there was no way he was getting up on his own. Which meant...

"A-Alfred, could you get me another cup of water," Arthur said, pulling his head off of Alfred.

"Sure~!" Alfred said, getting up, and wondering why that nice feeling had left him once he got up. After coming back from the kitchen, he saw Arthur flopped out on the couch. "Oh my God, you didn't die did you?" Alfred asked, actually sounding serious. Arthur looked up at him with a lifted eyebrow. "Fyew," Alfred said, handing Arthur the water, "You scared me there."

"I'm fine," Arthur said with all the confidence he could muster, considering he couldn't move around or get up, or do anything for himself really.

"Of course you are," Alfred said cheerily, sitting in the chair that was on the side of the couch with Arthur's head. "Are you feeling bad, like in any other ways than just dizziness and being weak?"

"Well, I have a headache, but that could be because of you," Arthur said, and Alfred grinned at him, just as Arthur knew he would, "And you might want to get me a dust bin."

"A what?" Alfred asked, confused at the object he'd asked for. Arthur pointed at a trash can.

"That," Arthur said.

"Oh," Alfred said, getting up and taking it over to Arthur, not having to extend much energy considering it was so small. "You confused me, calling the trash can a dust bin."Alfred said to Arthur with a wink. Arthur raised his eyebrow again, but only to distract him from the rising blush on his face.

"Alfred, Arthur, you should come in!" Alfred heard his mom call out the door.

"We're in here, Mom," Alfred called, sitting back down. Lucy walked in, only to be confused as to what was going on.

"What's going on in here?" she asked.

"Arthur got dizzy while we were playing and almost fell over, so I had to take him inside and now he's feeling really bad," Alfred said before Arthur.

"Oh! You should have told me," Lucy said, rushing over to inspect Arthur, "Alfred, go get a wet wash cloth with cold water on it."

"Yes, ma'am!" Alfred said with a salute, then turned and walked to the bathroom.

"Has he been taking care of you?" Lucy asked Arthur, puzzled.

"Yes, why?" Arthur asked.

"He rarely thinks of others enough to help them, he prefers to stay away from sick people. He really doesn't want to get sick," Lucy said, "Usually it's just helpful in the fact that he stays out of my way when I'm checking in on whoever is sick."

"Oh. Well that's odd. He was rather willing to help me," Arthur said, "Whether I wanted him to or not,"

"It's probably because he's worried about you," Lucy said, "You being his best friend and all." Arthur's stomach flopped, just like it always did when someone referred to them being best friends.

"Y-yea, that's probably it," Arthur said shakily.

"I've got the washcloth, what do I do with it?" Alfred asked, bouncing into the room.

"Put it on his forehead, please," his mom answered, and Alfred put the cold washcloth on Arthur's head, the feeling returning as he brushed his fingers against Arthur's face. "Now the best thing to do is not bother him. I'm going to call the doctor and see if he can tell me what's wrong with Arthur."

So Alfred left the room, and Arthur was left sitting there with nothing to do. That is, until Alfred returned holding something.

"You have a headache, right?" Alfred asked Arthur, who nodded slightly.

"Yes, but it's not as bad as it was earlier," Arthur said, and Alfred flopped into the seat next to his head.

"You like that Shakespeare stuff, right?" Alfred asked him, and Arthur attempted to stare at him.

"Yes, I do," Arthur said, and Alfred sighed with relief.

"Oh, I was worried you wouldn't like it and that I had made an assumption based on the fact that you are British and all," Alfred babbled, then cut himself off, "Since I don't think you have anything to do at the moment, I'll read it to you, as funny as that'll be. I'm sorry if I mess up the words, but I can try as best as I can."

"Why read it to me?" Arthur asked, and Alfred wasn't sure how to answer it.

"Well, you don't have anything to do, and you have a headache, so you probably wouldn't want to read it yourself, so," Alfred responded.

"Which one are you reading?" Arthur asked.

"_Romeo and Juliet_, and don't you dare look at me funny either, I only have this because I had to read it for class," Alfred said before Arthur could respond.

"Why would I, I love that one," Arthur said, hoping Alfred would restrain from any jokes on his behalf about the fact that he liked the romantic play.

"That's good, cause Mattie has all the others in his room and I didn't want to bother him," Alfred said, and Arthur wondered why it was that the only one of Shakespeare's works that Alfred had in his room was _Romeo and Juliet_, and not something like _Henry V_. He disregarded the fact when Alfred started reading. He did, like he warned, mess up some of the pronunciations (or a lot of them) but it was the thought that counts. And it did give him something to focus on, though it embarrassed him to think that it was Alfred reading the play, and not someone else. Or maybe that made it better...

Matthew came downstairs to start dinner only to find Alfred in the living room, reading Shakespeare without anyone forcing him to. He continued walking into the kitchen.

"Should I be worried about Alfred? He's reading Shakespeare," Matthew said as he came into the kitchen, and his mom laughed.

"I'm just happy he's willing to do so for his friend," she said, turning back to her cleaning.

After a while of reading the play, Alfred noticed the lack of attention from Arthur. Looking into his eyes he saw that Arthur had gone to sleep. Alfred pulled the now warm washcloth off of his forehead and went into the kitchen to find Matthew and his mom working.

"I really want to know if I should be insulted or not that I put Arthur to sleep by reading to him," Alfred said with a laugh.

"I'm proud of you for taking care of your friend," his mom said, "I don't think he meant to insult you by falling asleep, he's probably just tired. It's one of his symptoms. He has heat exhaustion, it's caused by not drinking enough water while being out in the sun and working. Like I said, you need to drink a lot of water."

"We did drink water!" Alfred defended himself and Arthur.

"Maybe Arthur was affected and not Alfred because he's not used to temperatures as warm as this in England," Matthew commented quietly, and both of the other people in the room turned and stared at him.

"Sometimes I forget how perceptive you are," Alfred said to his twin, walking over an patting him on the back, "That's probably right."

"In that case, Alfred, you need to pay attention to him, make sure he doesn't hurt himself," his mom told him.

"You know I do!" Alfred said.

"Obviously not," she responded.

"Well I will from now on! Arthur won't get sick again, not while I'm with him!" Alfred declared, pointing at his mom. He then walked up to the sink and soaked the washcloth in cold water, then wrung it out. After that, he went back into the living room and placed it on Arthur's head.

_'Arthur is smiling in his sleep, so he must be fine,'_ Alfred thought, looking at Arthur, feeling that unidentifiable feeling again. He realized that he really wanted to know what it was, that feeling that made butterflies float in his stomach, and why it only happened around Arthur. Realizing that he was staring at Arthur, he turned away with a blush and sat down in the chair next to him with a magazine.

Matthew, looking in from the kitchen, noticed this, and thought that maybe there was a reason that Alfred was so willing to help Arthur get better. Maybe a reason that he himself didn't even realize.

"Matthew, can you help me with this?" his mom called to him from the kitchen.

"Of course," Matthew said, turning around with a hint of a smile on his face.

* * *

A/N: For this chapter I had to look up diseases that had something to do with heat, so the symptoms I gave Arthur are actually for heat exhaustion (like a very toned down version of heat stroke that people don't die over but can if it turns into heat stroke.) Another thing mentioned, the Shakespeare, I didn't have to do research for, but just in case anyone is wonder, Arthur would think Alfred would like _Henry V_ better than _Romeo and Juliet_ because _Henry V_ is about war and the glories/horrible stuff that happens in it (though if he had read that to Arthur, it might have been a bit of a slap to the face.)

By the way, I introduce a new pairing in the next chapter, but it doesn't interfere with the USUK part. I think it's more necessary, really, for my plot. I just hope you don't get mad at me. I'll just tell you this about the pairing: one of the characters is Canada, and if you are really burning to know what pairing it is, look on my profile, you can probably guess from that.


	5. End of Summer

A/N: Thank you for reading this far (yes, for me, this is far.) Keep reviewing and alerting, it's my sustenance (after the food that I eat, but still.)

* * *

"Hey, Arthur, I'm going to the public library, do you want to come with me?" Matthew asked the British boy. Alfred walked into the conversation at that and made a face. Before Arthur could answer Matthew, Alfred decided to throw his own offer out there too.

"Oh, hey I was just going to ask if you wanted to go to comic shop with me, they just got a new shipment in," Alfred said. Arthur looked in between the twins.

"Alfred, as much as I'd like to go with you, you know that I'm not a fan of comics. I think I'll go with Matthew to the library, and we can meet back up later," Arthur answered, wishing that Alfred hadn't asked him to choose where to go. He would have much rather have gone somewhere with Alfred (it's not that he didn't like Matthew, it's just that he was closer to Alfred), with the exception of going to look at comics.

"Oh, that's fine," Alfred told him, and Matthew immediately noticed his sudden downturn in feelings. It wasn't just because of their weird twin bond, either. It was obvious on his face, though, either luckily or unluckily, Arthur seemed to not realize that Alfred was suddenly in such a mood.

"Well, um, Alfred, can Arthur borrow your card? You never use it, and he'll need one if he wants to check anything out," Matthew continued the conversation, trying to ignore the sudden downturn of Alfred's feelings.

"Take it," Alfred said gruffly, then turned around to go up to his room. Matthew already had Alfred's card (Alfred was really bad for loosing things, that's why Matthew was delegated to hold things like that.)

"Come on, Arthur, we can walk to the library," Matthew said, leading the other boy out of the house. Upstairs in his room, Alfred was sulking. He didn't even know why he was sulking, but something about the fact that Arthur would rather going to the library with Matthew than go somewhere with him turned his stomach, even though he knew Arthur didn't like comics. After laying in his bed for a couple minutes he heard footsteps coming up the stairs behind him. The door was pushed open, and he wondered how come Arthur and Matthew had come back so early.

"Honey, are you feeling bad?" Alfred heard his mom ask, and Alfred rolled over to see her.

"I'm fine, why would you ask?" Alfred asked, already knowing the answer somewhat.

"Well, you asked Arthur to go to the comic store with you, then when he turned you down and went to the library with Matthew, you spent the next ten minutes laying in your bed sulking," his mom answered, and Alfred was annoyed at how much she'd noticed. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Mom, can you tell me what I'm feeling right now if I explain it to you?" Alfred asked her, sitting up and making room for her to sit at the end of the bed.

"Of course," she said, looking at him expectantly.

"Well, I think I'm mad at Matthew, but I don't know why that'd be, because he didn't do anything to me. And I'm also feeling a little sad, though I really don't know why," Alfred told her, staring at Arthur's blanket (that used to be Alfred's, until he gave it to Arthur because he was cold.)

"Ahh, you must be lucky to only now be learning what that feeling is. That, Alfred, is jealousy," his mom explained, and Alfred was a little put off by the tone of voice was using, like she was speaking to a five year old, "You're probably jealous that Arthur would rather go to the library with Matthew than you, who is supposedly your best friend." While Alfred bristled at the "supposedly your best friend" remark, he also thought it over, and as he thought about, he realized that he'd been feeling that way a lot. Really, any time Arthur talked to anyone other than him.

"Oh," Alfred let out, then looked at his mom, "I don't like jealousy, I don't like being mad a Matthew."

"That's one reason I'm glad you two get along so well for brothers. It makes my life easier," Lucy commented, making a joke. She got up. "If you don't want to go to the store today, I guess you could go another day." She then left the room and Alfred was left to think to himself. While her description had sounded right, there was something missing. Oh yes, that other feeling! The one he had every time he was around the British boy. The one that made him feel like he had swallowed several butterflies (in a good way) and made him want to be around Arthur at all times. Even thinking about him brought up the feeling, if fainter than when he was actually with him. He would have asked his mom about it, but something made him think that might not be the best idea. So he was stuck. Unable to figure out what the feeling was.

After sitting there for a while, he heard the downstairs door open and close and heard soft voices talking as they came in. After a bit there were footsteps on the stairs, and the door to Alfred's room opened, this time yielding Arthur. He was holding a stack of about five books, and looked around once he was in the room.

"Hey, Alfred, where should I put these down?" Arthur asked the lump on the bed, _my bed_, he thought. Alfred rolled over and up, sitting upright now.

"Nyeh, put it over on the desk," Alfred said, pointing. Arthur sat the books down gently, then looked over at Alfred.

"Did you get what you wanted at the store?" Arthur asked, and Alfred shrugged, falling back over.

"Didn't go," Alfred said, and Arthur stared at him.

"Why ever not?" he asked.

"After you and Matthew left, I just didn't feel like going," Alfred said, staring at the top of the bed, the bottom of his bed.

"Oh," Arthur said, sitting down on the bed, and Alfred was very aware of the fact that their legs were touching, if only ever so slightly, "Maybe I'll go with you, if you go sometime soon. Sorry about going with Matthew, but I didn't have any books to read, and you know that I don't like comics."

"It's fine," Alfred said, lying, "I was fine with it, if you really want to spend more time with Matthew, you can." Alfred knew he was lying when he said that, but he didn't want to smother the other boy. "I don't have to be your only friend."

"Oh," Arthur said, and there was something in his tone that Alfred wished he could identify.

"But I am your best friend, so don't forget that!" Alfred amended his last part sentence, and by saying that he made himself feel better, and yet also, something felt off. Something about him not wanting that. The scowl that had been making it's way onto Arthur's face disappeared.

"Alfred, Arthur! Come down here, I want to speak to you!" Alfred heard his mom yell from downstairs, and the two teens got off the bed and made their way downstairs to where Lucy and Matthew were already waiting, along with another boy who Alfred couldn't identify. He had shoulder length blonde hair, with some slight stubble on his chin. He also had blue eyes, that were currently staring at Matthew. "Um, this is Francis Bonnefoy, he's a refugee from France," their mom introduced uncomfortably, to which Alfred stared at her.

"Don't tell me you took another one in," Alfred said, and Arthur could tell that he wasn't _meaning_ to sound rude. It just came out that way. His mom glared daggers at him.

"Only for a week or two," his mom said, "His host family had an emergency with a relative in another city, and they had to leave, and there was no where for Francis to stay, so I thought you wouldn't mind him being here for a little while."

Alfred, having learned his lesson, held up his hands in surrender, "It's fine with me, but where will he sleep?"

"He can stay in my room," Matthew said quickly, before anyone could suggest anything else.

"Are you planning to share a bed?" Alfred joked, prodding his brother in the side, who blushed like a tomato.

"N-no, he can take my bed, I can sleep on the couch," Matthew said, face still burning, staring at the ground.

"Oh, no, I couldn't take your bed, _mon ami_," was the first thing Francis had said since stepping foot inside the house, and Alfred learned that his voice was heavily accented, "I will take the couch." Matthew looked around, not knowing what to do.

"I insist, you take my bed, since you are the guest," Matthew said, then suddenly remembered something, "Oh, I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself, my name is Matthew."

"What a nice name, _Mathieu_," Francis practically purred, and Matthew blushed, glad his mom had left the room only moments before to go clean up something in the kitchen and let them get to know each other. Alfred and Arthur watched the exchange, Alfred starting to feel protective of his brother.

"O-oh, thank you," Matthew answered the compliment, staring at the ground. That's about when big brother Alfred stepped in front of Matthew.

"My name is Alfred," he said to Francis, glaring at him.

"You must be the older of the two," Francis said, backing off. Alfred smiled and nodded at him.

"My name is Arthur Kirkland," Arthur said, and Francis looked at him.

"And you must be the British refugee that Madame Lucy mentioned," Francis said, and Arthur almost couldn't understand him through the accent.

"Yes, that's correct," Arthur said.

"Matthew, could you come help me? I don't know how to fix this," their mom called from inside the kitchen, and Matthew hurried out of the room. Francis stared off in that direction.

"Is Mathieu good with tools?" Francis asked, puzzled.

"No, but our mom is hopeless when it comes to fixing food, so Matthew is always the one to fix our food," Alfred told him, and Francis's face brightened.

"Matthew is good at cooking?" Francis asked, and Alfred stared at him.

"That's what I just said," Alfred told him, and Francis held up his hands.

"Sorry, my English is terrible," Francis explained, "It may take several tries for me to understand." The three started walking towards the kitchen, and Francis automatically went over to Matthew to see what he was doing. "What are you fixing?"

"Err, casserole," Matthew said, then turned to look at the French boy, "I'm sorry if that's not to your taste, but I do what I can with what I have."

"Oh, it's fine by me," Francis said, "Is there any way I may help? I think I myself am quite good with food."

"That'd be great," Matthew said enthusiastically, pointing out something that he could do.

"Arthur," Alfred said, then dragged him out of the room, "Am I the only one who thinks it looks like Francis is _flirting_ with Matthew?"

"Maybe he's just being friendly," Arthur suggested, then he stared at Alfred, "You don't think it's wrong for a guy to like a guy, do you?"

"Uh, no," Alfred answered quickly, realizing once he said it that that was true, "I don't, it's just...It's Mattie! He's..." Alfred was at a loss for words.

"I find it nice that you are protective of Matthew, but since it doesn't look like he minds, if he notices it at all, then I don't see the problem," Arthur said, and Alfred fumed.

"But! What if he's a perv? I don't think Mattie-"

"What are you two talking about?" they heard a heavily accented voice, and both turned to see Francis.

"How long have you been there?" Alfred asked, and the other man smiled.

"Since 'maybe he's just being friendly'," Francis stated, and Alfred looked away, "I think it's wonderful that you care enough about your brother to pay attention to that kind of thing."

"So wait, you _were_ flirting with him?" Alfred asked, dumbstruck. He hadn't actually thought...

"_Oui_, I hope that is fine with the older brother though," Francis stated, looking at the two. Arthur was blushing at Alfred's obvious disbelief that Francis was hitting on his brother. "I did hear you say you didn't think it was wrong for two men to be together, though. Or did I not understand?"

"I-it's just-I mean...are you really a homosexual?" Alfred asked, still at a loss for words. Francis smiled at the two, winking.

"No, I'm not homosexual," Francis said, stumbling over the word in English, "I'm bisexual, there's a difference."

"And that difference is?" Alfred asked, and Francis laughed at him.

"I'm not prejudiced as to whether I fall for women or men," Francis answered, the smile never leaving his face. "_Amour_ should not be dictated purely by how you were born."

The entire conversation Alfred had been staring at Francis, while Arthur hadn't been meeting the eyes of either of them, a light blush covering his face. And Francis noticed that.

"Francis, can you help me with something?" Matthew called from the next room over.

Francis gave Alfred the closest thing to a pleading look as he could, then asked, "May I?"

"Why-why ask me?" Alfred asked.

"Because you are the older brother, and I wouldn't want to go against your wishes," Francis told him, and Alfred looked at him for a long time. Arthur next to him was holding his breath, wondering how Alfred would answer his plea.

"Don't-don't do anything he doesn't want you to do, and if he doesn't like you that way, _drop it_," Alfred told the Frenchman, and the smile reached his eyes.

"Merci, mon ami!" Francis said, quickly leaving the room before the taller one could contradict himself.

"I'm going to hope that means 'thank you'," Alfred said to Arthur, who had just let out the breath he had been holding in. Alfred noticed the out rush of breath and asked "Are you not feeling well?"

The Brit blushed and shook his head, "I'm fine."

"Oh, that's good," Alfred said, smiling and closing his eyes. "Come on, let's go watch Mattie make our food."

"You just want to make sure Francis doesn't do anything bad to him," Arthur told him.

"So? Is that a bad thing? I did tell Francis that he could flirt with my brother, but his idea of flirting is most likely different from mine, and he will most likely not be able to realize if Matthew gets uncomfortable," Alfred told his friend, and grabbed the shorter person's wrist, the fuzzies going all over his body at the contact. Alfred dragged him into the kitchen and they stood at the door, watching Matthew and Francis cook, with Alfred's mom switching between watching them and cleaning something. Alfred watched as Francis brushed his hand against Matthew's while Lucy wasn't looking, and while Matthew might have blushed (Alfred wasn't completely sure if he did or not,) he didn't seem to be uncomfortable. Alfred and Arthur were standing side by side, shoulders touching.

"Oh yes, that's right. Alfred, Matthew, I have some news from your father," their mom said, turning around from doing the dishes. Alfred was suddenly alert.

"What is it?" Alfred asked, and Matthew had paused his work to look over at his mom, Francis standing right behind him.

"He's getting transferred," Lucy said, "To a base called Pearl Harbor. It's in Hawaii."

* * *

A/N: Yup, I feel evil now. For anyone who knows/doesn't know history, that last line is a cliffhanger/not a cliffhanger. All depends.

As for this chapter, there isn't that much history. The only thing to mention is that even though France was taken by Germany, people managed to smuggle kids out of the country, and of course, some made their way to America, so there you get Francis. As for his attitude towards being gay/bi, it was (at least, I take it) not as unheard of in France for people to be gay/bi. It was more accepted as well, which is why he is so open about it. As for Alfred and Arthur's attitudes (more so Alfred), it was quite rare for someone to know anyone who was gay or the like. It was not common back then at all, and not very accepted either. Alfred is being rather giving with his attitude, but it should make sense for him, in context.

On another note, this chapter was necessary, even if it didn't seem it. And I apologize to those who are not Franada fans, I'd like it if you kept reading anyway. But since I didn't give fair warning at the beginning, though I planned it... Francis, as well as Matthew, will be a major point in a later chapter. Anyway, R&R, por favor.


	6. December 7, 1941

A/N: Wow, thanks for all the reviews. I feel really bad about that last line now, thank you. I'm a mean person. And here is the next chapter!

* * *

"I'm not! Stop insisting that I am!" Alfred and Matthew heard from the upstairs. The twins turned and looked at each other knowingly.

"I wonder what it is this time," Alfred pondered, and Matthew just smiled as he heard the footsteps coming quickly down the stairs.

"Ah, _mon ami_, denial is a bad thing," Francis said, walking right behind the Brit.

"I'm not in denial, now drop it," Arthur said, glaring at Francis. Francis stopped talking, but mouthed "You're in denial," and sat down on the couch next to Matthew right as the hand went through the air where his head had just been.

"What is it this time?" Alfred asked Arthur, who sat down in the other chair, seeing as how there wasn't much room on the couch (and he didn't want to near the frog.)

"Nothing," Arthur said, not meeting his eyes.

"Something~" the Frenchman sung, and a pillow flew through the air and hit him in the face. "Ah, that wasn't too nice, now was it?" Francis asked, and Arthur started to grumble under his breath. Matthew, knowing this was going to continue for who knows how long, decided to distract the others.

"Alfred, have you finished your homework?" Matthew asked, and Alfred stuck his tongue out at his twin brother.

"Yes. Mother, I'm done," Alfred told him, and Arthur smiled, only making Francis want to tease Arthur even more. But he decided to control himself. "Hey, Arthur, it's been almost a year since you came to stay with us," Alfred commented, and Arthur looked at him in surprise.

"I suppose it has." Arthur said thoughtfully.

"Ha, I remember, when you first got here, you were all quiet and shy," Alfred said, and Arthur blushed, "You're no where near like that now."

"I still can be!" Arthur told him, and Alfred would have poked him in the side had they not been on separate sides of the room.

"Yea, just not around me," Alfred said, and Francis resisted the urge to laugh.

"Is that bad?" Arthur asked, suddenly shifting moods.

"No, I mean, it's just..." Alfred tried to cover his mistake, but then Arthur smirked, and Alfred just lost the sentence.

Francis stretched out longways on the couch, his head resting on Matthew's shoulder, who "eeped" at the sudden contact. Alfred looked over to stare at them, knowing that Francis was yet again flirting with Matthew. Sadly for Alfred, he had noticed over time that Matthew seemed to not mind it. Actually, he seemed to enjoy it. Right down to the blush that was covering his face at the moment. It was rather odd that their mom hadn't noticed it. Maybe she just didn't want to think that there was a possibility that her son was falling for the Frenchman that she had let into her house. It was probably the second one.

Arthur stared with a weird look, just like he always did when Francis showed affection to Matthew. Alfred thought that maybe it was disgust, since he had never voiced his opinion on guys being with guys. The thought of Arthur not liking homosexual relationships made Alfred feel...weird. To say the least. He couldn't understand why though.

They all heard the door open and Lucy's footsteps in the front. Francis quickly (yet somehow suavely) pulled himself back so that he was sitting in an upright position, though it did seem like he and Matthew were sitting much closer now. Alfred felt a tinge of jealousy, but he didn't know why.

"How's everyone been?" Lucy asked, "It was pretty outside, if a little cold for a walk."

"We've just been talking," Matthew answered, and Lucy looked at them all sitting in the same room, seemingly not noticing that Matthew and Francis were siting close enough on the couch that the other males in the room could also squeeze on.

"Oh, sounds like fun. You guys are all so close," Lucy sighed, happy her children were finally making friends (though Matthew had managed to make a couple of friends before then.) "Well, don't stop for me, I'll just go upstairs and read my book." With that she left the room, and Francis wasted no time in putting both arms on the back of the couch, one of which rested on Matthew's shoulders slightly. Alfred shook his head, glad his brother had someone to care for him, annoyed that it had to be this flirt.

The room was quiet for a couple minutes, for several different reasons. One was that Francis was not planning on attempting to start a conversation that would make Matthew shy away from him (it happened. More than Francis would like.) Matthew was fine with just sitting there, and his twin didn't feel like bothering him. Arthur couldn't come up with anything to talk about, as much as he wanted to talk to Alfred (and wished that Alfred had been the one on the couch instead of Matthew when he and Francis had come downstairs.)

That's when there was a knock on the door, and Alfred was up and ready to answer it, Francis's arms retreating to his lap. Opening the door, Alfred was greeted by his mom's friend Alison, who looked slightly down. Had it been anyone other than Alfred, they would have noticed this.

"Hey, Alison. Mom's upstairs reading a book, I'll go get her if you want," he said with a big grin to the obvious confusion to Alison. She followed him into the living room and waited while he went to get his mom.

"Is he having trouble handling the news?" Alison asked Matthew, who looked at her, now confused.

"What news?" Matthew asked, and Alison looked horrified.

"Oh no, you guys haven't heard, have you?" Alison asked, and Matthew was about to answer when his brother quickly jumped in.

"What news?" Alfred asked, acting like his usual cheerful self, with his mom being a little bit more refined, standing behind him.

"Your husband is stationed at Pearl Harbor still, right?" Alison asked Lucy, who nodded. "Well...I...I really wish I wasn't the first person you heard it from, but..." Alison started, then quickly spit out, "It'sbeenbombed."

"What did you just say?" Alfred asked, obviously not having understood her rushed sentence.

"Pearl Harbor has been bombed," she said slower this time, "There's not a lot of information except for that, and that many people have died and several ships and aircraft were destroyed."

Alfred stared at her, and Alison watched as it sunk in.

"Dad...was there anything about regular military mentioned, or anything?" Alfred asked, getting frantic suddenly.

"Just that there where several who are currently missing, presumed dead," Alison answered, not meeting his eyes. Alfred's fists balled up, and Arthur had trouble looking at him without feeling horrible. Alfred looked to be close to tears, but before Arthur could see if he was going to cry, Alfred shifted his gaze to the ground.

"Why him? He didn't choose to go!" Alfred yelled, and he ran out of the room before anyone could attempt to calm him down. Arthur thought to take a quick glance at Matthew to see how he was, but unlike his brother, he had no qualms with crying outright, in front of everyone, and Francis was looking around, trying to think of something to say to him to make him stop crying.

"I'm sorry, I should've waited until there was more news, I just..." Alison looked at Lucy, who was restraining from crying, trying to set an example for her children. "He's probably not dead, there weren't as many army personnel killed as navy." Alison walked forward, wrapping her arms around Lucy, who gratefully took the hug. Arthur realized then that she was in no shape to help Alfred. Lucy had Alison, Matthew had Francis, and at the moment, Alfred had no one. Arthur quickly left the room, running up the stairs, seeing Matthew crying onto Francis's shoulder before he left. The door that he came to was locked.

"Alfred, let me in," Arthur said.

"No," Alfred responded, though it was muffled and tear filled.

"Please, Alfred. I want to talk," Arthur told him, then remembered that he had an extra key (courtesy of Lucy) to which he kept outside the room. He quickly grabbed it and opened the door to a sight he never expected to see.

Alfred was crying. Into a pillow. On Arthur's bed. Granted, it was probably too much trouble to get up to the top bunk at the moment, but still. Arthur walked up to Alfred, unsure of what to do now. After closing the door back after him, he sat down on the edge of the bed and put his hand on Alfred's shoulder. Arthur refrained from saying anything for a couple minutes, letting him cry himself out.

"Alfred, you don't even know if he's dead or not," Arthur said, hoping that maybe that would help. Apparently not though.

"Knowing my luck, and his, he's gonna be one of the 'lucky few' though," Alfred told him, never removing the pillow from his face. Arthur tried to pry the pillow from his face, which, to his surprised, was easy. Alfred's face was tear streaked, and he still clutched the pillow. Arthur now attempted to get him to sit up, which he did, putting his legs out so that he too was sitting at the edge of the bed. He stared blankly ahead. "Why him?" he said in a tiny voice, and Arthur thought it must have been the way he sounded as a child, that's how small and innocent sounding it was.

Arthur awkwardly put one arm around Alfred, and before he knew it, Alfred was crying full speed ahead, leaning onto him. Alfred's head was right under Arthur's chin, and both of Alfred's arms were now wrapped around Arthur. This made Arthur blush, though he felt bad for it. It was odd how it could even be considered comfortable, considering how Alfred was the taller of the two. Arthur rubbed his back, trying to be comforting. He had no words for Alfred. Arthur's father had left on purpose; Alfred's dad had been taken from him. So they sat like that for a while, neither capable of any words.

There was a knock on the door. "Alfred, what do you want to eat?" Alison asked, obviously taking over cooking duty for Matthew since he was unable to do so. Alfred mumbled something into Arthur's chest. "I can't hear you."

"I don't care," Alfred answered, louder this time, though not rudely. After she left Arthur was wondering if Alfred would get up. But he didn't. He stayed there. Cradled in Arthur's arms. Until supper. And Arthur had no problem with it. After a while Arthur even wondered if Alfred had fallen asleep. A subtle movement of his arms convinced Arthur that he was entirely awake.

"You don't mind this, do you?" Alfred asked after a while, moving his head so he could speak clearly, "I'm sorry if I'm making you uncom-"

"Don't worry about it. You're fine. Take your time," Arthur answered, maybe a bit too quickly.

A few minutes later there was another knock on the door, to which Alfred mumbled a "Come in." Francis opened the door, Matthew trailing behind him. Alfred didn't even bother moving out of the embrace, much to Arthur's embarrassment. Then again, Matthew was holding Francis's hand, though it seemed more like a comfort thing than a flirty thing. Alfred didn't even bother to stare at Francis, meaning he really was off.

"Madame Alison wanted us to tell you food was ready, if you could come down to eat," Francis told Alfred, who, yet again to Arthur's surprise, moved out of the embrace and looked at Francis, not batting an eye at Francis and Matthew holding hands.

"I'm coming," Alfred said, and while it wasn't in his usual happy voice, it wasn't the same one he had heard earlier. Alfred stood up, then turned to look at Arthur. "You're coming too, right?"

"O-of course," Arthur said, standing up quickly. The four filed downstairs, Matthew letting go of Francis's hand at the bottom, making Arthur think that maybe it wasn't as much for comfort as he thought. Alfred wasn't too far from Arthur either though, and he doubted that had anything to do with anything other wanting someone nearby. As the four came into the kitchen, the twins' mom put on a forced smile.

"Nice to see you all again."

…

Alfred was slowly but surely getting better over the course of the next few days. He had tried to convince himself that maybe his dad had made it out. But that was shattered a few days later when he came downstairs after hearing a knock on the door and finding a soldier at the door, with his mom crying, holding a scrap of fabric. He dropped the book he's been holding, the noise drawing the soldier's attention to Alfred, and also brought Matthew and Arthur downstairs. Matthew stared at his mom for a few seconds, then bolted back up the stairs, with Alfred following more slowly, having been all cried out from a few days earlier. Arthur stared up the stairs where the twins had retreated and looked at Lucy.

"I'll call Francis, see if he can stay over," Arthur said to Lucy, who nodded slightly, still crying. After doing so, and having Francis promise to be there soon, Arthur went back up to his and Alfred's room. As soon as he entered the room he sat on the bed and hugged Alfred. Alfred hugged back, but no tears left him this time.

Later that night when they were trying to go to sleep, Arthur noticed Alfred's arm hanging off the top bunk. Thinking that he was asleep, he reached up and grabbed the hand, squeezing it. He almost squeaked when the hand squeezed back. The hand from the top bunk then refused to drop Arthur's hand until much later, when Arthur assumed that Alfred had fallen asleep.

* * *

A/N: Yup, I feel even worse than at the end of the last chapter. It makes me feel even worse after all the reviews...I had already written this chapter when I posted the last one. Nyeh, I'm soooo sorry!

Now I'll tell you, this had a lot of historical stuff mentioned, but please, don't take me on my word. Because seriously, I tried to research everything I mention in here, but I'm not going to have all my facts right. The parts I did research is that there were Army people who died, just not as many as the people in Navy. It was bombed in the morning, so I guesstimated that it was perfectly possible for them to know about it that afternoon and such. As for how she learned that he was dead, I've read about that happening (I don't know when) but I don't know if they would have done that here. Please don't take that as something that happened, I thought it might have and it fit into my story.

So, errr, I apologize for this chapter (in general), err, R&R, por favor.


	7. Springtime

A/N: And now, to apologize for the last chapter, here we go.

* * *

"Alfred, do you know where my other books are?" Arthur asked, and Alfred shrugged, hanging off the side of the top bunk while reading a comic book. Arthur turned around to look at him from where he was sitting at the desk, wondering how he managed to do that without making himself sick.

"They might be in Matthew's room, I think he might have borrowed a few," Alfred said, his eyes leaving the page to look at Arthur, "Do you want me to get them? I have to ask Mattie something anyway."

"If you wouldn't mind, that would be nice," Arthur said, returning to his notebook where he was writing things down. Alfred sat back upright, jumping off the side of the bed and landing on the floor hard. He stood upright and walked out, heading towards Matthew's room.

As Alfred opened the door, he said, "Hey, Mattie, do you have Arthur's books? He wants-"

That's when he noticed where Matthew was in the room. He and Francis were both sitting on the bed, with Matthew leaning over Francis so that part of Matthew's back was on Francis's chest, and his head was on Francis's shoulder. In Francis's lap sat a book with a French title, which they both seemed to be reading from. As America had come in he realized they had been speaking about the book, and it sounded like Francis was teaching Matthew French. As soon as Matthew noticed his twin standing in the doorway with his mouth open, his face turned even redder than it had been when Alfred had come in.

"A-Alfred," Matthew spit out, embarrassed, attempting to sit up. Francis stopped him, and looked right at Alfred. The older of the two twins held a light blush on his face for walking in at that moment.

"The books are right there, Alfred," Francis told him, and Alfred nodded, walking to where he had gestured and getting the books, not looking at them,

"A-" Matthew started to say something to Alfred, but then was cut off by Francis whispering something to Matthew that sounded much like "He's OK with it." Alfred then looked at the two of them, and while Matthew was blushing just as hard, they both seemed to not be going anywhere. Knowing that it would kill Matthew if he didn't say something, he decided that he could find a way to voice what he thought about it.

"Sorry for bursting in like that," Alfred told them, quickly stepping out of the room and closing the door behind him, the question he had been planning on asking Matthew leaving his mind. He walked back into his and Arthur's room. Alfred set the books on the desk next to Arthur. Arthur turned around to thank him, before stopping once he saw Alfred's blush.

"Did you ask Matthew what you wanted to ask?" Arthur said.

"N-no," Alfred said, sitting on Arthur's bed.

"Why not?" Arthur asked, curious.

"Because I didn't want to interrupt Mattie and Francis," Alfred said, then thought _'And because I wanted to get out of there as soon as I came in.'_

"How would you have been interrupting them?" Arthur asked, pressing on, noticing the frazzled state that the twin was in. Which only made him want to figure out why he was acting that way when that was no where near the way he usually acted.

"They were cuddling," Alfred said after closing his door so that his mom wouldn't hear it, "I think I scared Mattie when I walked in."

"Oh, so, does that mean they finally..." Arthur asked, trailing off. After Alfred nodded, Arthur stared at him. He seemed a bit shaken, which made Arthur wonder why he'd be that upset just from walking in on his brother cuddling with someone. It was with another man, but they had already gone over this once before, and Alfred had said he was fine with it. "D-does that bother you?"

"Well, kinda," Alfred told him, and Arthur's heart sank, "I mean, he's my little brother and all, even if it is only by seven minutes. I feel protective of him." Arthur's heart rose back into his chest after realizing that he was just bothered because it was his brother.

"So, it doesn't bother you that Francis is the one he is with?" Arthur asked.

"Hmmm, it all depends on what you mean by that question," Alfred said thoughtfully, and Arthur held his breath, "I think that Francis is a nice person and all, if a bit too flirty. It would make my brother the girl in the relationship. So, I guess, I don't mind it any more than I should, or would, with anyone else." Arthur let out the breath he'd been holding, and Alfred heard it.

"What was that for?" Alfred asked, getting up so that he could make his way back up to the top bunk of his bed.

"Oh, nothing," Arthur said, turning around before Alfred could see his blush.

"Oh, yeah. You haven't told me what you think about it," Alfred said, looking down at the other boy. Arthur's breath hitched.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you fine with a guy being with a guy? I mean, you don't seem like someone who is against it, but I still feel the need to ask," Alfred babbled, and Arthur focused his eyes on a point in front of him.

"I think that who someone falls in love with is up to them. It's their business," Arthur responded, and Alfred smiled.

"I didn't think you'd be against it, but I felt the need to ask," Alfred said, picking up his comic again.

"Do you really think so little of me that you think I'd be prejudiced like that?" Arthur asked, back to being prickly again.

"Hey, don't blame me. It's a perfectly reasonable thing to think," Alfred said, looking back at his comic. Arthur refused to sigh again. It would make Alfred wonder again.

…

Arthur was really tired of not knowing what Alfred thought of him, for real. He wanted to know if Alfred really just thought of him as his best friend, or if he thought more of him. Knowing what had happened to Arthur in the past, his prospects did not look good. The fact that Alfred was open to that kind of thing is more than he had gotten in past times, but that did not mean it would end any better.

But this time, Arthur decided to ask someone else to help him with this issue. That's why he was in Matthew's room today.

"So, you want me to figure out if Alfred likes you too?" Matthew asked him, and Arthur nodded shyly, "I'm impressed that you even acknowledged your crush, Francis told me you never would."

"Wait, you already knew I...?" Arthur asked, staring at Matthew. Matthew smiled sheepishly at the Brit.

"I kind of guessed, even before Francis mentioned it to me, but he was so sure of himself that I was even more sure that you must like him, or something of the sort," Matthew answered, then he thought _'I also thought the same for Alfred, but it's harder to tell with him.'_

"But-I-"Arthur stuttered, blushing.

"It's fine. I'll help you, but I have to ask you one thing. Can I ask Francis to help too?" Matthew asked, and Arthur scowled.

"I'd rather him not get involved," Arthur said, but at the despairing look on Matthew's face, he decided to change his verdict, "But if it is really necessary, I guess."

"Great, I will help you with your problem. I'll wait until Francis comes over later before starting, though. Now go talk to Alfred, the last I saw, he was so bored he didn't know what to do with himself," Matthew told Arthur with a smile.

…

"Hey, Alfred, how are you?" Francis asked as he walked into the American's room. He knew Arthur wasn't in the room because he had told Matthew to distract him downstairs. The other twin turned and looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm fine, why?" Alfred asked, suspicious. Francis decided to throw caution to the wind.

"Well, I wanted to ask you about something. Matthieu told me something funny a little while ago. He said you'd never had a girlfriend," Francis said, lying. For all he knew, Alfred had a new girlfriend every week. But Francis could tell that that wouldn't be true. Either that, or he was hiding them in the closet. Alfred's blush told Francis that he was right with his guess that he'd never had a girlfriend.

"Yea, so?" Alfred asked, turning back to his comic, trying to cover the blush.

"Oh, I was just wondering if you ever planned on getting a girlfriend. It might be good for you," Francis said, making something up on the spot.

"Be good for me? How?" Alfred asked, putting the comic down, knowing he wasn't leaving.

"Oh, maybe you'd be happier," Francis said, scrambling for something to continue the conversation without seeming like he was making stuff up.

"I am happy," Alfred told him, trying again to ignore him by staring at the wall.

"Is that code for 'I don't like girls'?" Francis asked. Alfred's blush grew.

"O-of course I like girls! What would make you think otherwise?" Alfred asked the Frenchman. Francis smiled, to Alfred's annoyance.

"I don't know-maybe it's the fact that you've never had a girlfriend," Francis decided to continue prodding Alfred with this until he admitted something.

"Maybe I just haven't found the right girl," Alfred said, almost like he was reassuring himself.

"_Maybe_," Francis started, "Is the key word."

"N-no! I-" Alfred didn't know what to say. He didn't even know why he was denying it so much. Other than being mocked by society if he was, that it. Yea. That's why.

"Admit it, you've thought about kissing guys before," Francis told him with a knowing smile. Alfred refused to answer, which Francis took as Alfred's concession that he was right. "I know you like someone. Just tell me, who is it that you've thought of kissing?"

"Nobody!" Alfred yelled at the same time his mind thought _'Arthur'_. Francis saw the thought process, and was happy to see that they were finally getting somewhere.

"Just tell me, I won't tell anyone. Not even Matthieu," Francis told Alfred.

"...Arthur," Alfred told Francis, "But that doesn't mean I like him that way!"

"Tell me, have you ever felt funny while you were around Arthur? Like there were fuzzies in your stomach, or like butterflies were trying to escape? Do you not like being away from him?" Francis quizzed the American, who blushed and looked away, wondering how he knew. "You don't know what those feelings are, do you?"

"...No," Alfred answered. Francis smiled at him.

"Poor boy. That," Francis told Alfred, "is love. You love Arthur." Alfred's face lit up as he blushed further, and before he could deny it anymore, Francis said, "Don't take my word for it. Next time you are around Arthur, think about what you are feeling. Maybe I'm right, or maybe you are."

"..."

"Just think about it."

…

"Can someone pass the peas?" Matthew asked, mostly just to say something. For some reason the table was completely quiet. It might have been Alfred, who wasn't speaking at all, like he usually did. Something seemed to be bothering him, and if that was the truth, then Francis did his job. Arthur also looked more worried than he ever had been, and that was just according to Matthew, who was a bit more observant than most of the other people at the table. Soon after that the people at the table quietly dispersed, Matthew to go walk Francis home, and Arthur and Alfred up to their room.

Up in the room, Arthur was alone. He sat at the desk, reading a library book while leaning back a bit. He heard the door open and was about to say hi to Alfred, when two arms engulfed him. From the hug he could automatically tell who it was who was hugging him, and his face turned red. The hug was warm and nice, but it ended quickly.

"A-Alfred? What was...?" Arthur asked, not looking at Alfred so that the taller of the two couldn't see his red face.

"I...I just wanted to thank you for everything," Alfred said breathlessly, and before Arthur could turn and look at him, Alfred was out the door. Arthur's face turned redder at the thought of this having something to do with what he had asked Matthew. He tried to ignore the thought that it could also be a bad thing.

Outside he door, Alfred was standing there, breathing deeply, his heart pounding harder than he remembered it doing in a while. His face was like a tomato, and he really hoped his mom wouldn't walk up and ask him why. It felt like there was a herd (or whatever you call it) of butterflies trying to fly around in his stomach, all at the same time. _'I think I like Arthur.' _Alfred thought. Then he the thought came again, more obviously and louder than the last time.

_'Oh my God. I love Arthur.'_

_

* * *

_A/N: OK, so I didn't have much in the way of historical-ness in this chapter. But you can enjoy it anyway, right? Also, sorry if this seems like a big jump from the last chapter (even I think it seems like it came from a whole 'nother story, and I wrote it!) I wanted the last chapter to happen to get their relationship going, but other than that I feel like it's pointless. *Is shot* On another note, I realized that this is my first story to be written mostly from Alfred's point of view (for USUK fics, of which I have written plenty, I usually keep it more or less to Arthur's pov.)

Well, aside from all that, R&R, por favor.


	8. There

A/N: So here's the next chapter...

* * *

"Mattie," Alfred tried to get his twin's attention, who looked up, only to be met with a flick in the forehead.

"What was that for?" Matthew asked Alfred, who stared at Alfred as he sat down on Matthew's chair. Francis wasn't at their house yet today, but he was on his way, and Arthur was sitting on the couch downstairs, reading a book. Alfred closed the door so that Arthur wouldn't hear his next sentence.

"Your idiotic boyfriend," Alfred told Matthew, who frowned.

"What did he do now?" Matthew asked, completely disregarding the "boyfriend" jab.

"He made me realize I was in love!" Alfred said frantically. Matthew raised an eyebrow at his older brother.

"Isn't that a good thing?" Matthew asked, and Alfred slumped down in his seat, looking around glumly.

"Not when you know it's impossible for that person to return your feelings," Alfred said, sinking lower in his seat.

"Oh, really. How would it be impossible for someone to return your feelings?" Matthew asked, "Tell me, who do you like?"

"I-I'm not going to tell you!" Alfred stuttered, blushing.

"So you'll tell Francis, but not you _twin brother_?" Matthew said, rolling his eyes and laying back on his bed, "I'm really feeling the love, Alfred."

"It's not my fault! I wouldn't've chosen Francis as the first person to know, it just happened," Alfred said, prodding Matthew with his foot, "Plus, he'll probably tell you anyway."

_'Probably, but then again, I'm pretty sure I already know who you're talking about,' _Matthew thought in response, but instead decided to try to pry the truth out of Alfred's mouth himself. "So, I'm guessing Arthur would be your top choice, right?" Matthew asked him.

"M-my top choice?" Alfred freaked out, thinking Matthew had guessed it. Which he had, but that wasn't how he'd planned that sentence to come out.

"To tell who you like. Why so jumpy all of a sudden?" Matthew corrected himself, and Alfred let out a breath, "Really, why are you so against letting me know who you like?"

"Because that is a step that he doesn't want to take. That would mean that he has accepted that he likes that person, and he doesn't want to," Francis said as he opened the door, and Alfred blushed, knowing this was all going downhill now. "Did that hit too close to home, Alfred?"

Alfred decided his best choice was to just not answer, which of course meant that Francis smiled knowingly at him, taking it as a surrender.

"You need to admit it to yourself before you tell anyone else," Francis said.

"I have!" Alfred said, and then glared at Francis, "Fine. Matthew, I'm in love with Arthur. Happy?"

"Very," Francis and Matthew said at the same time, then turned and looked at each other oddly.

"But what in the world do I do about it now?" Alfred asked them and before either of them could say anything, the door opened to Arthur.

"Was there a party I wasn't invited to?" he asked, and Alfred's face turned red and he looked down, hoping to goodness Arthur hadn't been outside for too long. Francis glared at Arthur where Alfred couldn't see, and Arthur's face was covered in recognition in the fact that they'd been talking about something Arthur shouldn't hear.

"It's fine, I was just about to leave," Alfred said, not meeting Arthur's eyes as he walked out. As soon as he was gone, Arthur looked at the other two panicky.

"He's been treating me like I have a disease for a week! No, he treated me better when I was sick! What the hell are you two doing?" Arthur asked the two, who both held up their hands in surrender.

"I'm not going to say what we are doing, and actually, I think I'm stopping with my interference. He's a lost cause anyway," Francis said, all seriousness. Arthur's face fell, then he came after Francis, grabbing the pillow off Matthew's bed and smacking him in the head.

"You arsehole! Playing with my feelings! Thinking-what were you thinking?" Arthur yelled at the Frenchman, the last question obviously rhetorical. Francis didn't do a thing as Arthur beat him over the head with a pillow, and once Arthur was all done and had left the room, Matthew turned and stared at Francis.

"Why'd you say that? We were obviously getting somewhere with Alfred," Matthew asked Francis, getting up and shutting the door. Francis smiled at the other boy.

"Do you really need to ask, _mon cheri_? I'm pretty sure it's their turn to do what they need to do. If I meddled and got them together, what would the worth be?" Francis asked, and before Matthew could ask the questions that were clearly on his mind, Francis continued, "Just trust me."

"Fine. But I don't think you should have been that rude to Arthur," Matthew commented, "Or is that part of your plan too?"

"_Non_, I just think he's funny when he's mad," Francis told Matthew, who smacked him lightly.

"You are a jerk," Matthew said, kindheartedly. Francis pulled Matthew into a hug.

"I was joking, no need to get mad," Francis said, and Matthew sighed, leaning into the hug.

…

_'I wonder why Arthur's been in such a bad mood lately,'_ Alfred wondered, watching Arthur read furiously. It might not make sense, that adjective describing reading, but the way he was reading, it could only be considered reading while furious at someone or something. And Alfred knew better than to get involved when the Brit was mad at something. But who ever said that he did what was best for himself?

"Hey, Arty, what's wrong?" Alfred asked him, and Arthur turned to him, face red with anger. Oddly enough, Alfred thought he saw another emotion in his eyes as well.

"How many times have I told you not to call me that?" Arthur asked, though Alfred obviously wasn't supposed to answer him.

"Oh, come on. I know that you're mad at something. Why not tell me?" Alfred asked.

"Because I'm not bloody angry at anything," Arthur half-yelled, proving to anyone listening that he was obviously_ not mad_. Obviously.

"Fine. Fine. Don't tell me," Alfred told him giving up and walking out of the room, and Arthur wished to goodness that Alfred had tried harder to get him to tell him why he was mad. In the next room over, Francis face-palmed.

"Seriously, am I the only one in this house capable of romance at all?" Francis asked the air, to which Matthew cleared his throat, "Other than you, of course." Francis corrected himself.

"Maybe you should just help them already," Matthew suggested.

"I'm already helping them by not doing anything," Francis told him.

"Sure you are," Matthew muttered, and Francis draped his arm around Matthew.

"You should have more faith in me," Francis told him, and Matthew blushed.

…

"It's been three days and the only words they've said to each other is 'good morning' and 'good night'," Matthew commented to Francis a few days later, "Surely you didn't plan this."

"So maybe I underestimated their stubbornness. It'll still work," Francis said somewhat confidently, yet not as much a couple of days ago. Matthew looked at Francis for a couple seconds, then let out a breath.

"Francis, I love you and everything, but seriously. I know Alfred. Whatever you're planning isn't working," Matthew told Francis, and much to his surprise, Francis didn't get mad at him.

"Maybe you are right," Francis said, "But I still can't help them."

"But why?"

"Because that defeats the purpose."

"So you are too stubborn to admit that you were wrong and help them?"

"..."

"Fine, I guess that means I have to help," Matthew commented, getting up and walking to Alfred's room, Francis following behind him. Matthew opened Alfred's door, finding Alfred there alone (Arthur was downstairs reading again, too embarrassed to stay in Alfred's room, even if it was both of their's.)

"Hey Mattie, how're you?" Alfred asked, looking up from his comic.

"I'm good, thanks," Matthew said, finding it hard to drop his politeness completely. "Now listen, Alfred."

"I'm listening," Alfred said, looking at him funny.

"I want you to go downstairs and ask Arthur what's wrong. I also want you to make sure you leave him happier than he is right now. Now go," Matthew told him, and Alfred grinned at his brother.

"I'm proud of you. Telling me what to do," Alfred said, getting up and walking to his door, "But don't get used to me doing what you tell me to do. I was thinking about doing that anyway." After Alfred had left, Francis hugged Matthew.

"I'm glad you did that and not me," Francis said, "If anything goes wrong, it won't be my fault."

"It won't. Trust me," Matthew told Francis, who smiled at him. Noticing they were alone, Francis pecked him on the cheek before dragging him back into his room.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Alfred had just come into the living room, where Arthur was laying on the couch and reading a boor. Alfred walked over and lifted his legs off of the couch and sat down where they had been sitting.

"What the hell was that for?" Arthur asked, then noticed that it was Alfred and looked away.

"Tell me what's wrong," Alfred told Arthur, leaving him no room to deny that he was mad.

"Nothing," Arthur denied anyway.

"Oh come on, you haven't talked to anyone for the past few days, and when I try to talk to you, you practically bite my head off," Alfred told the Brit, who glared at the floor, cheeks turning red.

"It's nothing," Arthur said, sitting up, "You wouldn't care."

"I'm asking, so of course I care."

"...Fine. I asked Matthew and Francis to do something for me, then they, or more so Francis, went back on their promise," Arthur told him, hoping that the vagueness would let him get away with it. Or maybe not.

"What did you ask them to do?" Alfred asked, and Arthur grimaced.

"I wanted them to help me find out if the person I like likes me back," Arthur told him, continuing with the vagueness. Alfred's heart started beating harder.

"Who is it that you like?" Alfred asked the question that Arthur had been dreading. Arthur wondered whether to tell him or not. As he was about to lie, Alfred caught his eyes, and Arthur stopped breathing. Arthur couldn't lie to him now.

"Please...I'd rather not say," Arthur told him, and Alfred looked at him sadly.

"Why not?" Alfred asked, pleading. Arthur wanted to look away, but couldn't.

"Because...they won't like me back, I know it," Arthur told Alfred, whose heart rose into his throat, realizing he felt the same way as him. Alfred thought about what he could say to get Arthur to tell him who he likes. A thought occurred to him, but he knew that it wouldn't work. As soon as Alfred told Arthur that he liked Arthur, their friendship would be over. But, he wanted to leave him happy, and Alfred couldn't console someone when he didn't know how to console them.

"How about we say who we like at the same time," Alfred suggested, and Arthur stared at him.

"You like someone?" Arthur asked, his heart beating faster.

"Of course. Come on, let's do it. Say who we like on the count of three," Alfred said.

"...Fine, if we really must," Arthur said, gearing himself to run out of the room quickly, after it was all over, and his heart was broken. Again.

"Three," Alfred said first, and Arthur took up the count.

"Two," Arthur said.

"One," they said at the same time, then opened their mouths to say who they liked.

"You!" the both shouted, Arthur's eyes closed, and Alfred staring at him. The room remained quiet for a few seconds as the information sunk in.

"Wait...you like...me?" Arthur asked, opening his eyes to find Alfred inches away and staring at him.

"You didn't lie, did you?" Alfred asked him.

"Why would I lie? Why would you even suggest that?" Arthur asked, turning away from him, relieved. Suddenly he was engulfed in a bear hug, the bomber jacket that the American always wore cloaking him. Arthur looked up to find Alfred's arms around his waist and his head resting on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry...I just...I didn't think you'd like me back. I was a bit surprised when you said you liked me," Alfred whispered, but because of the close proximity, Arthur could hear him easily. Arthur wrapped his arms around Alfred, putting his head on Alfred's shoulder.

"I'm glad to finally have someone return my feelings," Arthur said, obviously meaning to say it to himself, but Alfred heard it as well.

"You haven't ever...?" Alfred asked, not moving away when he asked, and Arthur was glad he didn't, because otherwise Alfred would have seen his tomato face.

"It's not very common to find guys who prefer other guys over girls, even in England," Arthur whispered, and Alfred squeezed him, realizing that Arthur must have known he liked Alfred much longer than Alfred had known that he liked Arthur. "It's one reason why my mom was worried about me staying in Britain, in case Germany managed to take Britain. Jews aren't the only group the Nazis hate."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Alfred asked.

"I didn't want you to dislike me more than you already did. After I knew you didn't mind, you never asked," Arthur said.

"It's fine then. I hope you're not mad anymore," Alfred told Arthur, "If it helps, Matthew and Francis are the reasons I realized that I liked you. That I love you."

"It-it helps," Arthur said, "And I love you too."

"That's-" Alfred started to say something as he heard the door open and his mom's footsteps come into the house. He and Arthur both quickly jumped apart, sitting at opposite ends of the couch as Alfred's mom walked in.

"How was everyone?" she asked, and Arthur and Alfred looked at each other and smiled.

"Great," Alfred said, at the same time Arthur said, "Fantastic."

"Nice to know you two settled your argument," Lucy commented, "It was sad to watch the two of you not speaking to each other. Why were you even fighting?"

"Something stupid," they both said at the same time, and then grinned at each other.

* * *

A/N: Oh, yea I'm excited that they finally got together, and I'm the one who wrote it. Don't worry though, there's going to be an epilogue which will be posted soon. On Thursday. Yea, at first this story was only going to have eight chapters, with this chapter and the last in one, but I just couldn't fit that, so I split it up. I was hoping to finish before school started back, but I missed it by extending it, since tomorrow is the first day of school for us. Oh well.

Historical note time! As I can see, the only part that is worth mentioning is Arthur's comment of "Jews aren't the only group the Nazis hate." This is true, because among the groups that the Nazis persecuted, other than Jews, were gypsies, disabled people, and homosexuals. While not in as large quantities as the Jews, they weren't treated nicely either. In case I have to spell it out for you: Arthur's mom was worried because she knew her son was homosexual, and didn't want him to be treated worse if the Nazis did take over.

OK, now: R&R, por favor!


	9. Snapshots

A/N: I apologize for the late posting of this final chapter. Already the second day, and I have homework that keeps me busy. Oh well, hope you like it!

* * *

"Arthur, have you ever had your first kiss?" Alfred asked Arthur out of the blue one day.

"W-why do you ask?" Arthur responded with a question, trying to lead Alfred away from Arthur having to answer it. Alfred noticed the trick though.

"Just wondering, now don't avoid the question," Alfred told Arthur, leaning against him. The two boys were sitting outside, under a big tree. It was a hot summer day, and Alfred had decided it was time for them to get outside. Which really just meant Arthur was going to read in the shade while Alfred stared at him. Alfred's mom was away, working on something or another, while Matthew and Francis had decided they were going to stay inside where it was somewhat cooler.

"Um...no," Arthur answered quietly, but Alfred heard it nonetheless. He smiled and prodded the other boy. Arthur blushed and poked him back. "It's not like you've ever had one either," Arthur said, and Alfred blushed in turn, leading Arthur to smirk at the American. "I'll take that as a no."

"It's not my fault! I've just never had a girlfriend," Alfred defended himself.

"Well, neither have I. Nor have I really ever planned on it, though," Arthur said. At that comment, Alfred remembered what he had been trying to do. The two of them were already sitting close, and no one could see them in their fenced in back yard. Arthur's book had been closed already, as soon as Alfred started talking to him. Alfred just had to wait.

"You have a boyfriend though. Did you ever plan on that?" Alfred teased, and Arthur blushed.

"Of course I did! I wanted to be happy," Arthur responded, sounding vaguely like he was talking about a "happily ever after."

"Did your plans come true?" Alfred asked, looking at the clouds in the sky.

"Maybe...I think s-" Arthur mumbled, blushing, before he was cut off as Alfred's lips pressed against his. Completely taken back, he closed his eyes. Alfred wrapped his arms around Arthur's waist, and Arthur responded by wrapped his arms around Alfred's neck. The book Arthur had been reading fell out of his lap, unnoticed. After a while, surprisingly, Alfred was the one to pull back. He took a deep breath.

"Sorry for interrupting you," Alfred said before Arthur could go at him, "What were you saying?"

"I was saying, 'I think so'," Arthur said, looking away, confused as to why Alfred completely disregarded the fact that they'd both just had their first kiss.

"I think so, what?" Alfred asked.

"You know what you asked me," Arthur responded, and Alfred laughed.

"I just want to hear you say it," Alfred told him.

"My dream...it came true, love" Arthur responded, humoring the other boy, "A million times over." Then he realized what he had added to the end of one of his sentences, blushing bright red.

"So I'm your 'love' now, right? Is that a British thing?" Alfred asked Arthur, wrapping his arm around the Brit's waist, prompting a sputtered retort back at him. "Oh, don't be like that. I like it." Alfred told Arthur, who merely blushed and laid his head on Alfred's shoulder.

Meanwhile, in the house, Francis and Matthew returned to their seats.

"I feel bad, watching them like that," Matthew commented.

"We just looked outside to see how they were doing. I'm just proud of them for having their first kiss. Bizarre, la façon dont le jeune frère ont eu leur premier baiser devant la plus ancienne a fait," Francis said, adding the last part in French just to see if Matthew was listening, and by the blush that rose on Matthew's face, the thought of their first kiss made him embarrassed.

"Pas vraiment, Alfred a toujours été un peu plus lent que moi," Matthew replied in kind, and Francis laughed at Matthew's comment.

"_T__ouché," _Francis responded, then wrapped his arm around Matthew, "Aren't you so proud of your big brother?"

"Sure, if that's something to be proud of."

"It is, _mon cheri_."

...

"Mom, I want to tell you something, before we go off to college," Alfred said as he approached his mom, the day before he and Arthur headed out to college. His mom looked up from her book, smiling at her son. Arthur stood not far behind him, but then again, the two were rarely ever apart.

"Sure, sweety. What do you want to say?" Lucy asked him, sitting up and motioning the other two to sit down.

"Well, um...you know how I've never gotten a girlfriend?" Alfred asked his mom, who nodded, grinning.

"Don't tell me you've finally gotten a girlfriend. I'm so happy for you!" his mom responded, and Arthur looked away, knowing this wouldn't end well. Alfred coughed.

"Kinda..." Alfred said, to which his mom stared at him.

"How is that a kinda, statement?" she asked, and Alfred's blush became more noticeable.

"Well, erm, I- darn it, I don't know how to say this," Alfred said, "Maybe I shouldn't say. Arthur, can you...?"

"Nice one, Alfred. Leave it to me to break your mother's heart," Arthur muttered to Alfred, but Lucy caught part of the sentence with growing dread.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Fine," Alfred said, "I'll do it. Mom, Arthur and I are together."

"Together? Obviously, you're sitting right next to each other on the couch," Lucy responded, not catching what he meant. Alfred looked away.

"No, Mom. I meant, Arthur and I are a couple," Alfred told her, and this time, she got it. She stared at the two of them, noticing for the first time that they had been holding hands.

"You mean...Alfred, you're homosexual?" Lucy asked, her voice quiet, and Alfred was wondering what she was thinking at the moment.

"I-yes, I am," Alfred said, not attempting to "defend" himself to his mom.

"How-how long?" Lucy asked, staring at Alfred, and Arthur squeezed his hand in comfort.

"Just a year," Alfred said, and he saw his mom tremble a bit at the response.

"Mrs. Lu-" Arthur tried to say something to Alfred's mom, before she turned and glared at him, cutting off his sentence. Alfred noticed that, and wasn't going to let him take it.

"Mom, don't get mad at him. You are the one who invited him here," Alfred told her, "It was probably inevitable, anyway."

"You-" Lucy said, stopping herself, and Alfred wondered how she really felt about this. Right after this, Alfred heard footsteps.

'Great. Now Matthew plans on breaking her heart,' Alfred thought as Francis and Matthew came into the room, holding hands.

"Hmm," Matthew said as he walked into the room, noticing what was going on, "I guess you beat us to it."

"'Beat us'?" Lucy said warily, then noticed the hand holding. It was enough to tip her over the edge, "Of course, you're twins. What one does, the other will follow. Matthew, why do you always have to do what Alfred does?"

"What?" Matthew asked, surprised at his mom's snarkiness, "I was the first one, this time."

"Oh, my younger son finally does something one his own, and what is it? Get a boyfriend," Lucy commented, and the room was full of tension. "So what? I'm not going to have any grandchildren, nope."

"You can always try again," Francis said, and for once, Matthew glared at him.

"Now is really not the time," Matthew told him. The room was quiet for a while. Lucy looked up to see her children still standing in the room.

"So, what now? Are you waiting for my verdict?" she asked them, and Matthew and Alfred nodded their heads. "Fine," Lucy said, "I guess a good mother would say 'I want my children to be happy,' but just for once, I wish I could have the happiness. Sure, sure, I won't force you to do anything, but then again, what can I do? You are legal adults, you may do as you wish."

"That..." Alfred started, looking at his brother, "wasn't what we wanted."

"What did you want then?" Lucy asked, and Alfred knew that she would never give them want they wanted.

'Your approval,' Alfred thought, but then said, "I love you, mom." He then kissed her cheek and walked out of the room. The other's followed until Lucy was the only one in the room. Left to regret how mean she had been to her children.

...

"Open this door right now, you two!" came the call from outside Alfred and Arthur's dorm room. Alfred got up from his desk where he had been writing an essay for one of his classes.

He opened the door to one of his neighbors, who looked like he was about to pop. "What is it now?" Alfred asked him, and the man shoved a newspaper in his face.

"The war in Europe is over! Germany signed an unconditional surrender, so now all that's left is for the Japs to surrender!" the man yelled excitedly, and Alfred stared at the paper.

"What?" Arthur yelled, jumping out of his seat in the room and rushing over to look at the newspaper, standing on tiptoes to see over Alfred's shoulder.

"The War in Europe is Ended! Surrender Is Unconditional; V-E Will Be Proclaimed Today; Our Troops on Okinawa Gain," Alfred read the headline out loud, then looked over his shoulder at Arthur, who was happy enough to burst at the news.

"You can keep that paper if you want, I know you'll want to read it," the man said, looking at the excited British man. As soon the door was closed, Arthur hugged Alfred in his happiness.

"It's over! It's finally over!" Arthur said, and Alfred just couldn't stop staring at the paper. The two went over to one of the two beds in the room, and Arthur was so excited, Alfred didn't know he could even get that excited.

'What if he leaves now that he can go back to England? I'm worthless to him, now that he can go back home,' Alfred thought, looking at Arthur. Arthur immediately calmed down when he noticed how sad his companion seemed to be.

"What's wrong? The war is over, at least in Europe," Arthur asked him, but Alfred said nothing. Arthur suddenly seemed to realize what Alfred's thought process was at the moment. "You think I'm going to leave you now that it's safe to go back home, right?" Alfred nodded his head ever so slightly.

"Idiot!" Arthur said, hitting Alfred in the head, which knocked him out of his sulkiness, "I could have gone back years ago, with Germany being of no threat to England at that point. I stayed here because of you, why would I leave now?"

"You mean it?" Alfred asked, and Arthur just chuckled.

"Yes, silly, I mean it. Plus, I want to be with you when you finally see England," Arthur commented, and Alfred stared at him. "What, I want to show you my home country, is that so weird?"

"But...what?" Alfred asked, confused at the sudden track the conversation had gone.

"I had already been speaking to people about this 'study abroad' program for a while now, and it seems as though it'll be more likely to happen, now that the war is over," Arthur told Alfred, who smiled as he suddenly got what he was talking about, "There's a college that will accept us in London, so we can go to school there, and I can show you England. Though, now that it's been through a war, it probably won't be like what I remember it."

"Sounds good to me," Alfred commented with a smile, and then wrapped his arm around Arthur.

"I can finally introduce you to my mum," Arthur told him, and before Alfred could ask, Arthur continued, "She'll be so excited to see you, I just know it."

"I'd like that," Alfred told him, and Arthur leaned onto Alfred's shoulder, and they sat there like that for a while, happy now that they had some good news to share.

...

Alfred was surprised at how willing Arthur was to hold hands in public while walking through his old neighborhood. He guessed it had something to do with the fact that everyone there already knew Arthur was homosexual, but then again, Arthur had never been one for public displays of affection. As they walked into the front of Arthur's old apartment, they heard a voice.

"Arthur? Arthur Kirkland?" the both of them turned around to see an old lady who was sitting at a desk in the front part of the front hallway. "It is you! Your mother supposedly sent you off to America during the war, but nobody believed her."

"It's true, I've spent the past five years of my life living in America," Arthur told the old lady, then seemed to remember that Alfred was standing there. "Oh yes, Mrs. Howell, this is Alfred Jones, one of the members of the host family that kept me while I was there, Alfred, this is Mrs. Howell, she and my mum are good friends." Alfred smiled at the older lady, who raised an eyebrow upon noticing their hands. Normally, that would have been when Arthur pulled away, but he remained the way he was.

"Is he your, um, partner?" she asked Arthur.

"Yes, he is," Arthur responded, and Alfred was surprised at the fact that she didn't freak out on them.

"Nice to know you finally met someone like you," Mrs. Howell said, not rudely at all, "Your mum is home, she's in her apartment, if you remember which one that is."

"Of course I do," Arthur said, and the old lady laughed.

"Of course you do, what was I thinking?" she asked, and Arthur nodded goodbye and lead Alfred up to his old place. Alfred let go of Arthur's hand once he knocked on the door. Once the door opened, Alfred immediately took in what Arthur's mom looked like. She looked a lot older than he had expected, but she didn't look like she was about to turn to dust.

"Arthur?" she asked, and Arthur's eyes watered as he pulled her into a hug.

"Hi mum, I'm home," Arthur whispered into her ear, and they both stood there like that for a while. After a few minutes, they pulled away.

"What am I thinking, come in, come in," his mom said, and the two of them made their way into the small apartment. In what seemed to be the living room, Arthur and Alfred sat down on the couch while Arthur's mom sat down on the chair next to it.

"Who is this?" Arthur's mom asked, and Alfred smiled at her.

"This is Alfred Jones, he's one of the members of the host family I stayed with in America," Arthur told his mom, and Alfred took his hand back into his, which Arthur didn't seem to mind.

"How're ya doin'?" Alfred drawled, and Arthur poked him, to which Alfred corrected himself, "No, really, how are you?"

"Sorry about that, he seems to think that all British people think that Americans are hicks," Arthur apologized, but his mom didn't seem to notice, and was instead staring at their hands and smiling, much to his embarrassment. Alfred decided to tease Arthur by letting go of his hand and instead snaking it around Arthur's back, pulling him closer. The Brit just started to blush, looking at the taller man, then back at his mom.

"It's nice to finally meet you," Alfred told Arthur's mom.

"I can already tell that it was a good thing that I sent Arthur to America, even if it was for such a long time," Arthur's mom responded with a smile, and Arthur just blushed.

"I am too," Alfred said, "No matter how much I didn't realize that when I first met him." Trying to do so without alerting his mom, Arthur held the hand that Alfred had wrapped around him.

"How was your stay in America?" Arthur's mom asked, trying to start a new conversation.

"It was great, if only for the people I met," Arthur answered.

"Tell me about what it's like. Tell me about your experiences," Arthur's mom said.

"Well, when I first got there, Alfred wasn't too friendly, but Matthew..." Arthur began telling his mom what life had been like staying with Alfred, Matthew, Lucy, and for part of the time, Francis. Alfred settled down and let Arthur tell his story, interrupting only every once in a while to add something into the story. Over the course of the story, Arthur began to be less embarrassed by Alfred's showing of affection, and leaned into him.

At the end of the story, Arthur's mom summed up what Alfred had learned years ago.

"So, just because something is different and unwanted at first, that doesn't mean it'll stay that way forever, right?"

"Right," Alfred and Arthur said together, looking at each other with a smile.

* * *

A/N: And here ends my first completed multi chaptered story. It's also quite a few other firsts, including first kiss scene written (though it wasn't a very detailed one. I apologize for lack of details, I will probably be able to write it better once I have experienced such a thing.) Also, sorry about the extremely corny ending, I couldn't help it. It was the only way I could manage it.

Historical notes for the last chapter start now! Including the translation (by the way, I used Google translate.)  
Bizarre, la façon dont le jeune frère ont eu leur premier baiser devant la plus ancienne a fait. - Odd, how the younger brother had their first kiss before the oldest one did.  
Pas vraiment, Alfred a toujours été un peu plus lent que moi,- Not really, Alfred has always been a little slower than me.  
Now, I must apologize for Alfred's mom's reaction. I had the majority of the fanfic with people being pretty accepting to the idea, so I really did have to make someone against it, so... yeah. The seventh of May, 1945, was the date of Germany's unconditional surrender. The headline used in this fic was taken from the Internet, and therefore is real. As for the Japanese, there were still a couple months to go before that surrender would occur. I'm not sure whether there was a "study abroad" program then, but from what I found on the Internet, there most likely was. That's pretty much it for the notes, more or less.

Wow, I actually wrote an entire fanfic. Brain is currently spinning. Please, tell me what you think about it! R&R, por favor!


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